Equivalent Exchange, the Alchemist's Principle: The Early Years
by Zenathea
Summary: On the night Ed and Al attempted human transmutation, Ed's determination to reach his little brother won out. The resulting consequences for the boys are painful, but not as horrible as they might have been. With both boys remaining flesh and blood and now fitted with an automail arm and leg, their path ahead is not so different, yet very different all the same. Parental Roy/Ed/Al.
1. Heaven's Door

**Disclaimer:** Rights are reserved for the respective parties who do in fact have claim and ownership over the Fullmetal Alchemist magna and anime 2003/2009 series. I am a fan writing for my own pleasure and enjoyment and am making no profits from doing so. The only thing I claim here are the blatant deviations from the original Fullmetal Alchemist that are obviously my own. This disclaimer is for this chapter and for every proceeding chapter added to this story henceforth.

**Author's Note: **Truth be told, I'm not all that much into anime. This particular manga/anime, though, has caught my intrigue, as well as sent my brain off beyond the Gate, only for the Gate to return it with an excessive plot bunny attached that demands itself written. This story is a mix of the manga with both amines and follows its own sort of timeline with an added twist, spiraling the end result into the category of an AU. I think it should be fun, intriguing, and suspenseful, with plenty of action and a dash of humor. As for romance and pairings, romance is not necessarily my genre nor my focus in any story that I write, so don't expect much in this regard. Enjoy the read.

**Dec 2013, AN: **So, I've been reading through some of my old stuff, while attempting to get my computer cleaned up. Found this, which I nearly forgot about completely. I've decided that it was quite good and probably deserves a repost. I don't know if I'll be adding to it, but … well … I just might.

* * *

–

**Equivalent Exchange, the Alchemist's Principle**

_Humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost. That is alchemy's first law of equivalent exchange. [FMA]_

**The Early Years**

–

**Chapter One: Heaven's Door**

Rain pounded down on the small country village, ozone filling the night with its electric charge. Lightning flashed across the dark, clouded sky overhead followed by thunder rolling in its wake, as the falling drops grew steadily harder and more unforgiving by the minute. While most residents of the village comforted themselves within their homes – warped in thick blankets or seated with a warm cup of tea in hand and a fire burning in a nearby hearth – two boys, one eleven and the other ten, paid no heed to the storm or the chill of the late spring night.

"… water 35 liters, carbon 20 kilos, ammonia 4 liters, lime 1.5 kilos, phosphorous 800 grams, niter 250 grams, sulphur 100 grams, magnesium 80 grams, manganese 1.5 grams, iron 5 grams, silicon 3 grams …" the elder of the two blond haired, golden eyed children rattled off, as the younger brother worked on adding the components as dictated to a large basin at the center of the windowless room. Upon the last component being added several minutes later, the elder bent down to the basement's stone floor with a piece of chalk in hand and anticipation in his eyes. "Right, now the constructional formula."

Fidgeting nervously, the younger of the two watched, as the elder boy worked. Slowly, with precise and well practiced strokes, the elder brother drew out the necessary transmutation circle on the floor. Every line of the circle was smooth and flawless, following every last calculation made and perfect in design. When he finished the last stroke, he stood.

"And finally, we need some soul data," the elder brother said.

Together, both boys carefully walked to the center of the circle, making sure not to traipse on any of the chalked lines or symbols. With knives in hand, each pressed the blade of the knife that they were holding to their left index finger, letting the welling blood from their wounds fall atop the rest of the gathered components within the basin.

"That ought to do. You ready?" the elder boy asked, as he and the younger boy took their positions outside the circle.

"Yes." The younger brother nodded.

"Then let's go for it," the elder brother said with a hint of excitement in his voice.

As one, the two brothers slammed their hands down against the outer lines of the circle. Power rushed through the cluttered basement with the transmutation's activation.

–

Lieutenant Colonel Roy Mustang glowered, as he trudged down the rain sodden path before him. So far, his and 2nd Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye's trip to the backwater village of Resembool had not been pleasant. The train that they had taken out of East City had broken down in Kaumafy, a small village one stop away from their destination. The five hour wait that it had taken for the train to be repaired had been nothing short of mind numbingly boring, seeing as Kaumafy was an even smaller village than the village of Resembool and the 'train station' consisted of nothing but a platform, while the 'village' consisted of far spread houses, lots of cows, and a single general store, which had run out of coffee earlier in the week and wasn't expecting another shipment until next Tuesday.

_Luckily, the repairs hadn't ended up taking as long as originally anticipated,_ he thought despondently, as his boots repeatedly sunk into the mud that had been a road not an hour ago. _A five hour wait is definitely better than a seven hour wait, let alone a full night's delay. _

A particularly blinding clap of lightening overhead drew the lieutenant colonel's attention to the tempest raging across the night and pounding down upon him and his subordinate. He sighed, tucking his head roughly against his chest the best he could, as the rain seemed to pound down just a bit harder and the resulting thunder shook the ground and trees around them, while the wind picked up in its ferocity. They desperately needed to get inside. However, like Kaumafy, Resembool's train station was but a simple, raised platform, and while there was more than a single general store in town, there was no inn.

"Sir, how much farther?" 2nd Lieutenant Hawkeye asked with a nervous edge that was barely detectable in her voice and would have been missed if the lieutenant colonel didn't know her so well. She, like her Commanding Officer, was aware of the dangers of being caught out in such a storm.

"Seeing as we've travel about three miles from the main part of the village, the house should be just over this crest," Mustang said and indicated to the slow rolling hill before them. "Or, at least, it should be in accordance to the directions given in the file."

"Perhaps, sir, we should inquire about lodgings for the night and leave the purpose of our visit until tomorrow," Hawkeye suggested, as they began the brutal task of trekking up the hill, their boots sliding and squelching in the mud with their every step. Their rain soak military issued uniforms poignantly weighed them down, not at all helping matters.

Focusing on not landing face first in the mud, Mustang merely nodded. Getting out of the storm and securing a place to stay for the night was prudent. While there was little love for the military in these parts, it was well know that few would turn military officers away if asked to supply lodgings for a night, as it could be seen as an act against the State. However, despite their lodgings being nearly guaranteed, the lieutenant colonel and his subordinate were both aware that they could quickly find themselves thrown back out into the storm, regardless of how the act might be perceived, if they pressed matters tonight and their attempt to recruit the Elric brothers into the ranks of the State Alchemists was not received favorably . Considering the reputation of the State Alchemists in these parts … both officers knew that there was a high probability that they would be forced back out into the night and to seek lodgings elsewhere, if they did in fact bring up the issue.

Mustang froze in his struggles against the mud, coming to a halting stop upon reaching the crest of the hill.

"Sir?" Hawkeye asked, looking to her CO with concern.

"There's something foul in the air," Mustang murmured, feeling a charge spreading out into the night that had nothing to do with the storm.

–

The alchemical energy was blinding, causing the two brothers to squint against the transmutation's brilliant, bright blue glow. As if the storm outside had come inside, a ferocious wind began to whip through the stagnate basement, scattering the boys' notes and calculations and whipping through the pages of left open books. Powerful charges shot out from the active transmutation, colliding with the walls and ceiling. Abruptly, the blue hue of the transmutation became tinted with crimson, as every breath the boys took rapidly began to settle ever more heavily in their lungs with the building pressure in the air.

"Brother, something is going wrong here," the younger brother exclaimed in alarm. This wasn't how the transmutation was supposed to go. Transmutations weren't supposed to react like this. They weren't supposed to make him feel like this. "Brother!" he exclaimed with exceeding alarm, as an void opened up at the center of their transmutation and little black hands shot out of it, flying towards him and grabbing hold off him, clinging to his clothes and skin. As they began to pull him towards the center of the transmutation, he flailed, struggling against their hold. His effort were all to no avail.

"Al!" the elder boy yelled, horror showing plainly on his face at the sight out his little brother being stolen away from him. He lunged towards his brother's disintegrating form, ignoring the black hands that were grabbing hold of him as well. All that matter was his brother. "Al!"

"Brother!" the younger boy, Al, cried out fearfully, feeling himself being pulled more forcibly into the void.

For a split second, as the elder boy reached out to Al, it seemed that he would be too late to latch on to his younger brother and that the two boys would meet their doom separately. However, with a desperate push against the vaguely solid ground beneath his feet, the elder brother jumped into the void towards his younger brother, not caring about anything but grasping his younger brother's proffered hand. "Al!" he called, catching hold of said hand and holding on to it for dear life.

"Brother!" the younger boy yelled one last time, as more little black hands latched onto him and his elder brother, tugging them mercilessly from the world and into the unknown beyond.

–

Hawkeye stiffened in response to the wariness in her CO's words, her hand instinctively going for the gun holstered at her hip and her eyes darting around the area.

"Stay behind me," Mustang told her urgently, taking off down the other side of the hill in a rush with his dark eyes set upon one of two houses off in the distance, the one that he knew to be the home of Edward and Alphonse Elric. There was no mistaking the alchemical energy now consuming the place.

"Yes, sir," Hawkeye said and made to follow the lieutenant colonel at a cautious distance. Upon catching sight of the blue hue beginning to surround the house that her superior was headed towards, she quickened her pace. She had been around enough alchemy in her life, despite not knowing how to perform alchemy herself, to know that whatever the Elrics had attempted to do just now, it was growing beyond their control.

As screams rang out into the night and the blue hue turned crimson, the lieutenant colonel and his subordinate broke into a run. The transmutation was rebounding and no doubt with volatile strength.

–

"What the…?"

"Brother?"

The elder brother, Edward 'Ed' Elric, didn't even have time to turn towards his younger brother, Alphonse 'Al' Elric, before he was pounced upon by his brother and they both went crashing to the floor. Relief flooded each boy, as they held each other, feeling the warmth and wholeness that they both were.

"What are we doing here, brother?" Al asked, upon drawing back from Ed. He frowned at the expanse of white all around them.

"I-I don't know," Ed said, frowning as well.

An echoing laughter to their right made the two boys stiffen and look in the direction of the sound. Perplexed looks crossed of the boys' faces, as they saw nothing but never ending white.

"Who's there?" Ed demanded bravely into the ether, as he clamored to his feet and shifted defensively in front of Al, who had stood as well.

"Here, here," the disembodied voice cackled. "I'm right in front of you."

"Where?" Al asked, not seeing anything. Both he and Ed gasped a mere second later, as a shadowy mist began to outline a humanoid form sitting on the floor before them. It had one shadowy leg drawn up with the other bent at the knee. Though they could not see its face, both boys got the impression that it was smiling maliciously at them.

"Who are you?" Ed narrowed his eyes at the shadow figure.

"Ah, thanks for asking," the shadow said amused. "I am known by many names. I am the World. I am the Universe. I am God. I am Truth. I am All. I am One. And," it said ominously and pointed a shadowy finger at the two boys, "I am you."

The shadow cackled madly, as the boys jumped in surprise and turned to see the large stone doors that they hadn't known towered behind them slowly begin to creek open.

"Welcome, ignorant fools!" the shadow said with glee, as little black hands shot out from the abyss and grabbed hold of the boys once more.

"Al!" Ed screamed for his younger brother, as he was yanked away by the hands with more force than before.

"Brother!" the younger boy yelled, as he too was pulled behind the doors with more force than before.

"Be quiet," the shadow chastised the boys. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

"Al!"

"Brother!"

The two boys cried out, while their struggles did nothing against the hands holding them.

"I will show you the truth," the shadow said smugly, simply watching as the two brothers were pulled all the way through the open doors and the large stone doors slammed closed behind them.

"Al!"

"Brother!"

"Al!"

"BROTHER!"

"AL!"

The two boys continued to scream for each other and to try to reach each other, as they were plunged into the depths beyond the doors. Their screams for each other soon subside, however, as information – information of all kinds, from all sources, knowledge beyond their wildest dreams – began to pour into their heads.

"Stop!" Ed screamed, attempting to grab at his pounding head.

"Ah!" Al yelled, attempting to do the same as Ed, as if by doing so he might prevent the mass amount of information from invading his mind. "Stop! NO! No more! Please! Please, STOP!"

"My head is going to explode!" Ed roared furiously, as more information and more images flooded his mind.

Neither of the boys knew how long it lasted or exactly how much information they were forced to take in, they simply continued screaming and pleading for it all to end, as their young brains were overloaded with the knowledge presented to them.

"Mom!" the two boys yelled, as their mother's figure came into view amongst the swirl of information spiraling all around. "Mom! Help us! Mom!"

Both boys had no more than just reached out for her, their child hands extended desperately, when everything stopped and she was gone.

"Mom?" Al asked, blinking his eyes against the expansive white once more filling his vision.

"How was it?" the shadow figure asked from where it sat on the floor before the boys, seeming not to have moved at all since the two had last scene it.

"I feel like unbelievable amounts of information have just been crammed into my head," Ed answered, looking a bit queasy. "My head hurts."

"Mine too," Al said, rubbing his forehead with a grimace set upon his face and a faint shimmer of tears in his eyes.

"But now I finally understand," Ed piped up and turned to the close doors behind him. "This is the Truth!"

"Our human transmutation theory wasn't wrong," Al said with dawning realization, as he too began to process the information that he and his brother had just been forced to take in.

"That's right." Ed nodded and put his hands to doors, clawing his fingers into the crack down the center and attempting to open them. "It just wasn't enough. Just a little more," he gritted between clenched teeth, prying impatiently at the doors. "What we need to know was just ahead! There was the truth regarding human transmutation! – Please, let us see it again," he said, giving up his futile attempt to open the doors on his own and whipping around to face the shadow figure. "Just one more time."

"No can do," the shadow figure denied. "That's all I can show you for the toll you've paid."

"Toll?" Ed asked in confusion, as Al demanded, "What toll?"

"This," the shadow figure said gleefully, and suddenly, the shadow being had two mismatched human arms and two mismatched human legs.

"AH!" the two bothers yelled, as they each suddenly found themselves missing an arm and one of their legs. Where Ed's right arm had been there was nothing but empty space, the same went for nearly the whole of his left leg. The opposite was true for Al. The younger brother was now missing his left arm and nearly the whole of his right leg.

"Surely, you knew," the shadow figure said entirely too happily, as the boys tumbled to the floor before it. With an arrogant gait, the shadow walked up to the boys. "You're fortunate to share the price equally. Had you not been so determined to arrive here together, things would have ended much differently for the both of you." It sighed, as if it were disappointed. "But, alas, things are the way they are."

"Give us our limbs back!" Ed yelled angrily, practically snarling. He attempted to lunge at the shadow figure, but did not get far do to his missing limbs.

"Uh-ah-ah, young alchemist." The shadow figure bent down over the boys. "It is equivalent exchange, no?"

With that last parting shot, the boys were ejected from the white, expansive plane and back into the world which they had come from.

"Al!" Ed called out immediately, as soon as he had come to, while squinting against the darkness of the basement to locate his brother. He cringed, as unbearable pain shot through him from the gaping wounds where his missing limbs had been. "Al!"

"Brother!" Al called back, using his one good arm and functioning leg to crawl across the cold, stone floor of the basement towards Ed, who was doing the same to reach him. Al felt his stomach rolled with rebellion, as his hand slipped through the warm, gooey substance that he knew to be his and his brother's blood, as the crimson liquid pooled around them, mixing a foul, metallic odor into the air with the thick ozone that had filled the basement do to their failed attempt at human transmutation.

"Al." Ed sighed in relief, taking his brother's hand and tiredly lowered his head to the floor. His blond hair quickly became soaked with the blood beneath it.

"Brother." Al sighed, struggling to remain conscious now that he had tangible proof that Ed was indeed still alive.

"I'm sorry, Al," Ed whispered, his eyes drifting shut.

"I'm sorry too, brother," Al murmured back regrettably.

Neither boy heard the hurried footsteps overhead nor did they hear the basement door slam open seconds later.

–

Lieutenant Colonel Mustang felt his heart pound rapidly in his chest, as he pushed himself into a sprinting run towards the small two story house that belonged to the Elrics. Mud splashed up behind him, no doubt coating his back with a thick layer of muck. The wind whipped his cap off of his head and sent it spiraling into the night. All the while, fat drops of rain continued to soak him to the bone. He didn't care. He'd seen enough carnage do to wild, very nearly out of control, yet always explosive alchemy during his time in Ishval and he'd be damn if he saw more carnage without at least attempting to help, attempting to stop it. If the transmutation was rebounding, as it seemed to be, and if he got there in time and short circuited the array, if he could at least contain the backlash somehow …

He skidded to a halt just outside the house's garden gate. No explosion, no screams, no nothing, just silence and the storm overhead, as the crimson hue of alchemy abruptly vaporized from around the house and disappeared into thin air, leaving the house perfectly untouched and as dark as the night around him.

"Sir!" 2nd Lieutenant Hawkeye called out, as she skidded to a halt a few steps behind him.

He did not respond. He could only stand, staring incredulously at the house with his mouth hanging wide. He had felt the alchemy. He had felt how powerful it was, how out of control and hungry it was. He had seen the hue of the transmutation change, indicating the negative reaction.

"It was a rebound, wasn't it, sir?" Hawkeye questioned, eying the quiet house warily.

He nodded mutely. Yes, he was sure that it had been a rebound. Though, how the energy had been pulled back without any sort of apparent backlash was perplexing. He had never seen nor heard of something that strong merely fading away as it had.

"Your cap, sir," Hawkeye said and stepped up closer to him with his wayward cap out stretched towards him, seeming to have decided that the threat that the alchemy had posed was no longer immanent.

It was as Mustang finished straightening his cap upon his head that they heard the pain filled screams.

"Al!"

"Brother!"

Mustang needed no further prompting. In a matter of seconds, he was through the rusted, garden gate and making his way into the house.

"Check up stairs," he ordered, as he dashed through the front door, bypassing the rickety staircase in the entrance hall and heading deeper into the gloom of the house, while pulling his weapon free from the holster at his hip in the process. An heady ozone entirely separate from the storm outside filled his nose, as he quickly and professionally cleared the living room, kitchen, and pantry in a matter of seconds. Upon approaching a door on the far side of what appeared to be a rather simple, yet well maintained kitchen, the metallic smell of freshly spilt blood assaulted him.

Checking a second time to make sure the safety was indeed off on his weapon, seeing as his ignition gloves were thoroughly soaked and the gun was now his only defense, Mustang mentally prepared himself for whatever he might find on the other side of the door. He took a deep breath and steadied his weapon out before him, before, in one smooth motion, kicking the closed door inward, causing it to crash against the wall behind it with a reverberating _BANG!_

Hearing no sounds from within what he could now make out to be a scarcely lit cellar, Mustang advanced forward, taking careful, cautious steps down the stairs. Upon getting a full view of the room, his steps faltered, his body and mind freezing up, as he took in the sight of the bloodied and mangled bodied lying like discarded rag dolls in the middle of an ever growing pool of blood. The bodies were much too pale, much too still, but most importantly off all, they were much too young, much too young to have had a hand in the carnage presented before him.

"No." The word tumbled out of his mouth with no conscious thought. It was a denial, a denial of what he could already see was the truth. The evidence was there, plain as day: the complex transmutation circle on the floor, the gurgling, humanoid mass at the center of the circle, the two boys on the outside of the circle, limbs missing and blood everywhere. If that weren't enough and didn't speak for itself, he could hardly ignore the fact that where the boys' limbs were missing, the cuts were startlingly clean, too clean to be done by anything but alchemy.

_The rebound,_ his mind acknowledged.

"Hawkeye!" Mustang yelled for his subordinate, before pounding the rest of the way down the stairs and crossing the blood sodden floor over to the boys.

Bending down and with numb fingers, he reached down to the child nearest him, checking for a pulse. The dull thump against his fingers was weak, much too weak. Checking the other child, he found the second blond boy to be in much the same condition. Disregarding the blood and the very limited possibilities of what these children might have been attempting to do, he pulled the first boy up and onto his hip, before doing the same with the second. The kids were of the roughly of the same height and weight, giving him an easier time of maneuvering them, as he stood back up.

Footsteps pounding down the stairs, only to falter much the same as his had, alerted him to Hawkeye answering his call.

"There is a house not far, on the opposite side of the hill," Mustang said as calmly as he could manage, while holding the boys close to him and carefully stepping around the items scattered throughout the room. With strained steps under the weight of the two children, he made his way back to the stairs, where he looked up to Hawkeye with all the authority he possessed as her CO. "Run and get help, see if there is a doctor in the village…"

"Sir." Hawkeye nodded stiffly in response, though her eyes briefly linger with a touch of tenderness on the children in Mustang's arms. Turning back up the stairs, she bolted out of the house.

Wasting no time, Mustang climbed the stairs after her. While moving the boys might not have been wise in the immediate sense, doing so was wise for their future, should the two live. Whoever came to assist needed not see what rested in the basement below. On gut instinct, despite knowing that the transmutation the boys had been performing was most likely illegal and punishable by firing squad, he doubted that the act was committed with ill intent and he had the distinct sense that if he played his cards right and the boys pulled through the night, he might just be able to gain something for himself out of the whole ordeal and his and the 2nd lieutenant's horrid trip out to Resembool might not end up for not, like he had originally expected.

Two young alchemists with the brains and strength to do something like what he had witnessed tonight … both could prove to be assets to him and his future goals.


	2. An Offer for Consideration

**Chapter Two: An Offer for Consideration**

Mustang pressed the cloth that he held covering his nose just a bit harder to his face, hoping to block out the smell. Lingering ozone, blood, chalked lines that he had no comprehension of, a lifeless, humanoid mass twisted upon itself and rapidly decaying at the center of the room, notes, books, and alchemical ingredients were scattered about. The place was a mess. It was hard to believe that children were the cause of it. Even the most knowledgeable alchemist employed by the State wouldn't have been able to do whatever it was that the boys had done and gotten away with merely loosing an arm and a leg. Most would have lost their lives in the rebound that he had witnessed last night.

"Just what in the hell did you boys do?" the lieutenant colonel asked the room in a soft murmur, as he bent down to survey the scattered, loose leaf notes spread across the stone floor of the Elrics' basement. A majority of the notes were caked with blood or ruined by spilled ammonia and various other substances, though a few of the sheets remained intact and fairly untainted. Looking at the scribbles across the page nearest him, he sighed. It was written in code, and from the looks of the other discernible notes amongst the chaos, every last written word that the boys had recorded was in code – a highly sophisticated and complicated code at that. How children could have developed it … well, how had children even caused such a mess to begin with?

Righting himself, he ventured to the byproduct of the boys' failed transmutation, making sure not to step upon any of the chalked lines or to traipse upon anything that looked to be of importance. Kneeling down next to the humanoid mass, Mustang began to examine it, taking his time to look closely at every aspect of the already decomposing body. It was male, or had been male. That much he could tell. Its hair was a deep black. The eyes were of undetectable color, completely blood shot. Though, he'd say they had been blue. If he had to give a height to its twisted form, he'd say that it would have stood maybe an inch taller than him. It was definitely human, or had been human, at the very least. So, as he had suspected upon his initial assessment, the boys had indeed been messing around with a form of human transmutation. What they had been trying to accomplish, however, he wasn't entirely certain.

"Lieutenant Colonel," 2nd Lieutenant Hawkeye's voice broke through his concentration.

Mustang turned from his knelt position beside the body to look over his shoulder to where Hawkeye stood upon the bottom landing of the stairs.

"The old lady, Pinako, and her granddaughter have managed to stabilize the boys. The Elrics are now resting and ought to pull through just fine, all things considered. They'll most likely wake sometime in the afternoon," Hawkeye reported, giving her CO the update that the old woman had given her, despite him not asking for one and only asking to be informed if the boys regained consciousness. Though he would never admit, she knew that the lieutenant colonel had been worried about the brothers.

"Have the woman and girl asked anymore questions about what happened?" Mustang asked.

"No, sir," Hawkeye said. "I believe the knowledge of a failed transmutation was all that the two needed to know, as they've not expressed even the slightest curiosity about it since being informed of the source of the Elrics' current state."

Mustang's lips pulled into a grim line. He had expected as much himself, though he had chosen not to press the matter, as the old woman seemed highly protective of the brothers. Even if they did ask her about her suspicions regarding what the brothers had done, he doubted that the woman would actually tell them anything of consequence.

"Have you found out anything about the brothers?" Mustang asked, standing to his full height and turning to face Hawkeye fully.

"The girl and I talked some, while waiting for her grandmother to finish bandaging the boys." Hawkeye nodded. "She says that the Elrics are orphans. Their father left many years ago and their mother died not long after. Following their mother's death, the boys lived in this house on their own with the old woman and the girl looking out for them the best they could. A few years ago, the brothers left to train in alchemy under a master. They returned six months later. The girl did not know the name of their master, only that the boys came back more skilled in alchemy than ever before."

"Than ever before?" Mustang raised a questioning eyebrow at his subordinate.

"Yes," Hawkeye said, her amber gaze unwavering from her superior. "It seems that the two have been studying and successfully using alchemy from not long after the time that they learned to read at the ages of four and five."

Mustang's his eyes widened ever so slightly at the news, as he attempted to contain his surprise. He had been slowly developing the theory that the two had to be prodigal geniuses to pull off what they had at such a young age, but he had not even contemplated the possibility that the two might have been using alchemy successfully all the way back into their infancy.

Turning back to the twisted, decaying mass beside him, he looked down at it decisively. It might have been human at one point or might have become human, if the boys had been completely successful; however, it was neither alive nor necessarily human anymore. Technically, he ought to report his findings back to Central Command. He ought to hand the Elric brothers over to the State, regardless of their age.

"Sir?" Hawkeye asked, watching her CO closely.

In truth, from the moment that he had come across the boys, he hadn't had even the slightest inclination to follow protocol in this case. He had seen and done a lot in his life. He wasn't prone to trusting others on merit alone. He wasn't prone to giving second chances. These kids, however, they were a blatant, untapped potential and one that he could benefit from with a little effort on his part. Not only that, they really were far too young to be held accountable as adults. He didn't even want to think about what would happen to them, if he did, in fact, hand them over to the State.

Raising his gloved right hand, Mustang brought his thumb against his middle finger in a resound snap. The array on the back on the glove activated, as the ignition cloth provided the necessary spark. In seconds, the condemning evidence of the boys' transgression was reduced from a twisted and mangled body to a heap of ash. As the blaze that he had created died away, he turned back to his subordinate. "We found nothing that suggests anything. For all we know, things went awry when the boys attempted to transmute their homework."

"Yes, sir." Hawkeye bowed her head submissively with a faint, knowing smile playing across her lips.

As Mustang began to gather the notes and books scattered about the room, Hawkeye stepped down from the stairs and set about helping him.

–

He groaned, as consciousness hit him with unforgiving force. He ached. He ached all over. An ever present pain thrummed through his body. He was tired, unbearably tired and weak.

_What happened?_

With another groan, Ed reluctantly opened his eyes. He blinked several times, letting his golden eyes adjust to the light flooding his vision, as he took in the familiar, wood plank ceiling above him. So he was in his bed in his and Al's room. _AL! _his mind shouted in a panic, and just like that, memories of his and his brother failed attempt to bring back their mother came rushing back to him. He shut his eyes at once, attempting to block out the truth of what had happened.

"No," he grunted in denial, the word passing roughly through parched lips. With a shaking hand, he felt the binding wrapped around his right shoulder, a shoulder which should have had his other arm and hand attached to it … but _didn't_. "No!" he gritted out, his denial more fierce than before.

Opening his eyes once more, Ed reluctantly took stock of what remained of his body, after his and his brother's encounter with the Truth. His right arm was indeed gone and, based on the fall of the quilt, a good majority of his left leg was gone as well.

"Al," he sobbed, as his head landed back against the pillow that had been supporting it. If he no longer had his right arm and left leg, that meant that Al no longer had his left arm and right leg. "Al! Alphonse!"

"Brother?" was the quiet response. It was muffled by sleep and pain, but it was Al's blessed voice all the same.

"A-Al." Ed choked on his brother's name, tears stinging his eyes and threatening to spill over, as the reality of what had happened truly begun to sink in.

_What have we done? What were we thinking? We should have known. We should have known that there was a reason that human transmutation was forbidden. We dared to step into 'God's domain' and now we're paying the price. An arm and a leg a piece; how is that fair? How is that equivalent exchange?_

There was a strangled sob from where Ed knew Al's bed to be. "I'm here, b-brother."

"You … you all right?" Ed asked brokenly, despite knowing his brother couldn't possibly be alright, as he, himself, was not alright, yet unable to bring himself to actually look at the damage.

"I'm alive," Al whispered, but expanded no further.

Ed shut his eyes and nodded. They were alive, the both of them. He supposed that was all that really mattered, if he were to look at things objectively. One of them, or both of them, could have easily died last night. In fact, after returning from the Truth … with all the blood … he'd been certain that they were dead, or would be dead soon. How they were alive, he couldn't even begin to fathom. They certainly hadn't saved themselves.

"W-we shouldn't have d-done it, brother," Al said, tears evident in his voice.

"Yeah, we shouldn't have," Ed agreed.

Silence stretched between the brothers, both lamenting on the failed transmutation and what it had cost them, eventually giving way to the soft breathing of sleep, as both gave in to their individual exhaustion.

When Ed next woke, it was to something wet and cold being pressed against his forehead. Blinking blurredly, he made out the long blond hair and bright blue eyes of his and Al's childhood friend. "Winry?"

"Go back to sleep, Ed," she said softly, her voice wavering with every word. "You need to save your strength. I'll bring up dinner in a bit, okay?"

Ed nodded weakly, not entirely awake, as sleep reclaimed him.

–

"How are they doing?" Pinako asked, as Winry rejoined her in the kitchen. For being of such a small stature, the old woman moved about the house's kitchen with easy, as she worked on preparing dinner for her, her granddaughter, the Elric brothers, and their not quite welcome, yet not entirely unwelcome guests. The two military officers had, after all, saved the brothers' lives.

Winry worried her bottom lip, as she sat down at the dining table and turned to her grandmother. "Al seems alright. He was only a little feverish, but Ed was pretty warm. Ed … h-he woke up briefly, though, so that's good, right?"

Pinako hummed and gave a sharp nod of confirmation, as she continued chopping the bowl of carrots that she and Winry had retrieved earlier from their own home a short distance away. "Did he say anything?"

"Just my name." Winry sighed, as her gaze fell dolefully to the wood grains of the table. "He was pretty out of it."

"Do you think he'll be up for talking after dinner?"

Both Pinako and Winry whipped around at the intrusion of the lieutenant colonel's smooth baritone, their eyes focusing on the man as he casually stepped away from the open doorway leading down to the cellar with 2nd Lieutenant Hawkeye following close behind him. Winry scowled at the dark haired man, while Pinako merely eyed the man and his blond haired subordinate warily. Both looked worse for wear. Deep bags were under their eyes, their hair was mussed with several strands askew, and their military uniforms were rumpled and coated with various source of filth, along with being stained with sweat and dried blood. The two military officers had definitely seen better days.

"That would be up to him," Pinako snapped in response to the lieutenant colonel's inquiry, before narrowing her eyes at the man in warning. "You'll not badger him, you hear me? He's recovering from a serious trauma."

"I would never dream of it, madam," Mustang said, giving a placating smile that looked false and out of place on his worn face. "If he'd rather not talk, I'll do the talking and we'll leave it at that."

"And what exactly do _you_ have to talk to him about?" Pinako asked in an offhanded manner that didn't quite succeed and told of the truth that she knew and her worry over what would happen to the boys because of it. After all, she had no doubts about what the brothers had been attempting to do, no doubts about how the boys had come to be in the condition that they were now in, and no doubts about what the two officers had most likely come to conclude over the course of their all day investigation of the Elrics' cellar. Over the few years of his young life, Pinako had heard Edward mention the forbidden science more than once. After their mother's passing, she had always suspected that he and Alphonse would try to bring Trisha back. She had only needed to see the boys' bodies and be told that they had been injured do to a failed transmutation to know that they had finally gone and done it.

"I merely need to fulfill the duty that I was charged with," Mustang assured and gave the old woman a meaningful look that communicated his own knowledge of the truth of the brothers' actions, as well as communicated the sincerity of his next words. "Once done, my subordinate and I will take our leave and head back to Central. What happens after we leave, regarding the Elrics' future, will be entirely up to the boys. I believe that they've earned the right to forge their own path ahead. Though, perhaps some strong words of advice regarding the alchemy that they choose to practice might not be remiss."

Pinako looked from the lieutenant colonel to his 2nd lieutenant, studying the two. Looking back at the lieutenant colonel and taking in his hard eyes, she could see that she would get no further information out of him and that, whether she tried to stop him or not, he would speak to the brothers, before he and his subordinate departed later that evening. "Very well, you may speak with the boys after dinner. In the mean time, I suggested you get yourselves cleaned up. You're a fright and those boys don't need added stress. I'll not let you in the room looking like that."

–

Sitting propped up against the headboard of his bed with his pillow cushioning his back, Ed scowled and looked over at his brother, Al. They'd just finished eating their dinner, which had consisted of chicken noodle soup and a fresh baked roll, when Granny Pinako had come up to take their trays away, as well as to inform them that in a few minutes a military officer by the name of Lieutenant Colonel Mustang would be in to speak with them.

_Just our luck, the night that we commit the unforgivable, the Military is in town._

An audible growl escaped Ed's lips, as he took in Al's dejected form slumped against the headboard of the bed opposite his own. He could see plainly that his brother was worried about what the military officer had to say and was not merely upset about their lost limbs and failure to bring their mother back, though that was most definitely a part of it. Even he was worried about what the officer had to say, though he was doing his best not to show it, as he knew that if he did show any signs of distress, the whole situation would only upset and worry Alphonse more.

"Everything is going to be alright, Al," Ed said, trying to sooth his younger brother as well as himself. "We're going to be fine. Even if he did see the basement, we can always tell him we're working on a chimera or something. He won't know the difference."

"But, brother –" Al began in wide-eyed protest, clearly doubting their ability to pull off such a bold faced lie.

"_We are going to be fine,_" Ed repeated more firmly. At the very least, he would _make_ it so that they were fine. Military or not, he wasn't about to let anyone come between him and his brother or even remotely do them any form of further harm. His brother was all that he had left, and they had more than paid the price for their mistake last night. Besides, if losing an arm and a leg was good enough for the Truth, then it ought to be good enough for the State. He'd lie through his teeth to this military officer, if he had to. But no matter what, he and Al weren't going to pay a single thing more for what they had done, because anything more went far beyond his tolerance of equivalent exchange.

Before Al could counter his brother's assurances or Ed could further his attempt to reassure them both, there was a sharp wrap on the bedroom door. Two pairs of identical golden eyes snapped to the door, trepidation and fear in one set and fierce determination in the other.

"Come in!" Ed called out, while attempting to sit up with strength and not appear so weak. He was not going to let this military officer get the better of them, even if he and Al were now lacking an arm and a leg a piece.

The bedroom door opened quietly and a black haired man stepped into the boys' room with a commanding air. Without taking his dark eyes off of the two bedridden children, he shut the door behind him with a resound snap. Ed blinked, as he took in the stoic face of his opponent, completely disregarding the officer's overall disheveled appearance. The man could have been standing before him in a tutu for all it matter. He wouldn't have noticed, because the second that the man's eyes connected with his own, he knew that the man knew – not only knew that he and Al had been up to no good, but knew that they had touched the forbidden science.

_He knows. The bastard knows. But how can he know? He hasn't even spoken to us. All our notes were coded. The circle was completely our own design. The transmutation hadn't even been successful! _

"Brother," Al's quivering voice drew Ed's attention.

Upon looking to Al, who was even paler and was shaking far worse than he had all evening, Ed saw his brother pointing to something on the officer's belt. Following Al's finger to the man's uniform, he sucked in a sharp and strangled breath, as a sinking feeling entered his stomach. Looped around the lieutenant colonel's belt with the opposing end disappearing into the man's pant pocket was the silver chain that denoted a State Alchemist.

"Fuck," Ed cursed softly, his eyes glued to the silver chain as his last shred of hope of fast talking him and Al out of trouble went up in smoke.

"My name is Lieutenant Colonel Roy Mustang. I am the Flame Alchemist," the officer said, his impassive gaze sweeping between the boys. "You are Edward and Alphonse Elric, yes?"

"Yes, sir," Al mumbled with his lone hand fisted nervously in the quilt covering his lower body and his eyes trained on his lap. "I'm Al."

"And I'm Ed," Ed said, his voice loud and forceful, demanding Mustang's attention away from his younger brother. As the man's eyes came to rest upon on him once more, Ed bared his teeth. "Whatever it is that you think you know, mister, you don't know a damn thing!"

"Is that so?" Mustang asked, looking faintly amused by Ed's volatile demeanor.

"Yeah, it is," Ed said, giving the lieutenant colonel his best glare.

"Well, then," Mustang said, schooling his features once more into a stoic mask of indifference, "why don't you tell me what exactly it is that I don't know? Because, from the look of things, I'd say you boys tried your hands at human transmutation and, not surprisingly, the transmutation got away from you. Though, I must admit, it remains an impressive feat, in and of itself, seeing as both you and your house have survived the resulting rebound. So, I suppose the real question here isn't what you were doing last night, but rather: what exactly was that thing that you boys were attempting to transmute?"

"Our mom. We were tr–"

"AL!" Ed yelled, switching his glare from the lieutenant colonel to his younger brother. His anger faltered, however, upon seeing Al looking small and more vulnerable than he'd ever seen him with his gold gaze trained remorsefully on Mustang and shame filled tears rolling down his face.

"Your mom, huh?" Mustang asked. His dark eyes and expression softened the slightest bit, showing a bare hint of compassion. "I thought that might have been it. I take it you were trying to bring her back?"

Ed reluctantly gave a stiff nod to the officer, as Al broke out in a wail of tears and sobs mix with stammered apologies and professions of guilt. Ed felt his heart constrict with his own sadness and guilt at the pain in his brother's voice. As he sat helplessly watching Al breakdown in anguish, he wished nothing more than to cross the room and comfort his brother. But, even the slightest of movements nearly crippled him in physical pain, leaving him with no other option than to try to stem his own tears and not add to his brother's distress.

"Hey!" Ed yelled in panic, as the lieutenant colonel swiftly crossed the room over to his little brother. "Hey, put him down!" He pushed against the mattress beneath him with his single hand and attempted to swing his leg over the edge of the bed – attempting to get up despite the pain – as he saw the officer pull back Al's quilt and proceed to pick his brother up. "Get your hands off him! We said we're s–"

"Shh …" Mustang soothed, as he gently cradled the still blubbering Al against his broad chest and, with careful steps as to not jostle the boy, carried him over to Ed's bed. With a single look at Ed and without giving the now unnecessary explanation for his actions, he placed Al in bed with Ed, letting the older brother grab hold and cling to his younger brother, comforting the boy as he had so clearly wanted to do from the moment his brother had started crying.

The lieutenant colonel stepped back from the two, looking distinctly please with himself, as Ed's mere presence seemed to calm Al quite effectively and the elder brother's hush words to the younger brother seemed to calm the younger boy even further. Several minutes passed, as Ed again and again assured Al the best that he could that things were going to be all right and that he wouldn't let Al be taken away from him and that whatever happened they would face it together. As Al's sobs quieted and eventually began to subside, Ed gave Al a shaky smile and ruffled his hair.

"See, we're okay," Ed said, hoping Al really did believe him.

Keeping his one arm wrapped around his younger brother, who had his own single arm still wrapped tightly around him, Ed turned his attention away from Al and back to Mustang. The smile slid off his face, as he gave the lieutenant colonel a suspicious once over, not trusting the man's actions or motivations.

"I'm not a monster." Mustang sighed at the distrust displayed by the boy. While Ed had been comforting Al, he had crossed the room over to the desk by the door and had brought over the simple, straight-backed, wooden chair that had been push in beneath the desk. He now sat beside Ed's bed with his elbows digging into on his knees and his hands clasped before him. A grim look pulled his lips into a hard line, as the younger of the two brothers took to watching him with a wary expression as well.

"What you boys did was incredibly stupid," Mustang stated bluntly, while pointedly raking his eyes over where the boys' missing limbs should have been. "It was an impressive bit of alchemy, yes … even if it wasn't an entirely successful effort. No doubt, it shows great talent and extraordinary ingenuity and knowledge, especially considering how young you both are. However, it is a forbidden science for a reason. Do you know how many alchemist die, when attempting human transmutation, each year?"

Ed shook his head, as Al too shook his head beside him.

"Nearly every single one who dares to attempt it," Mustang said gravely, his eyes holding the startled gazes of the two children before him. "Not only is it morally wrong to use alchemy to mess with human lives, it is practically suicide."

"W-we didn't –" Al started, but fell quiet upon Mustang holding up a hand for silence.

"I don't believe that I need to tell you that nothing will bring your mother back," Mustang said, his dark eyes cutting from one boy to the other.

"No, sir," the brothers said together.

"We made a mistake," Ed said, pinning Mustang with a fierce look. He wasn't going to defend what they had done. Sitting here with Al, the both of them missing an arm and a leg, he knew it had been stupid. They had known that human transmutation was a forbidden science, but they hadn't cared. They had been arrogant, thinking that other alchemists just didn't understand what they so clearly understood and that they were smarter, better than those who had attempted human transmutation before them. He wasn't going to defend their arrogance. He wasn't going to defend their recklessness. He wasn't, however, above pleading for mercy from the State, if it meant saving him and Al from further punishment. They had already suffered enough, and their mistake was not one that they would commit again anytime soon, or ever again.

"Al and I know now that we were stupid … sir," Ed continued, keeping his tone respectful in spite of his distaste for what the man before him represented and could ultimately do to them with the knowledge that he now possessed. "We realized as much as soon as the transmutation rebounded back onto us. We were arrogant in our thinking that we had formulated a way to do the impossible, especially when so many before us had failed. We just wanted Mom back so badly. It was wrong and against the law, we know, but please, sir, we made a mistake and we're already paying the price."

"So you are," Mustang agreed with a short, approving nod.

"You aren't really going to arrest us, are you?" Al asked hesitantly, his hand tightening in its grip on Ed.

"You will find your cellar already cleansed of the remnants of your transgression," Mustang said matter-of-factly, pinning the brothers with a look that suggested they really ought to be thanking him. "Most of your books survived just fine, but a majority of your notes were destroyed. I placed the few surviving sheets on the worktable. They should be easy enough to find. You'll never speak of what you've done to anyone – _ever –_ without my expression permission first. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Ed bit out, not liking the attached stipulation, but grateful nonetheless.

Al nodded his head vigorously in agreement to the terms, looking not at all trouble by not being able to tell people about what they had done.

"Good," Mustang said, sounding distinctly satisfied with the boys' compliance. "Now, there is one more thing we need to discuss, seeing as it's the whole reason that 2nd Lieutenant Hawkeye and I came to find the two of you to begin with. To get to the point, as we are running short on time, you've both been named as potential candidates to join the ranks of the State Alchemists and I've been sent here to recruit you."

"No!" Ed said instantly, leaving no room for argument, yet fear struck his heart. Mustang could very easily force them, _so_ very easily force them to join_._

"Really, Edward," Mustang raised an eyebrow at the stubborn boy, "I am offering to do you a _huge_ favor and look the other way regarding what you and your brother have done, yet you're not even going to listen to my sales pitch? That's awfully rude, don't you think?"

_Equivalent exchange; alchemy's first principle. _Ed eyed Mustang with ever increasing uneasy. _To obtain, something of equal value must be lost._ _Just how much is our freedom going to cost us? Just what does this bastard think he'll gain from strong-arming a couple of kids into the Military?_

"And if we listen and still say no?" Ed asked, scowling at the lieutenant colonel with renewed strength, refusing to show his fear.

"If you listen and give my offer serious thought and you _still _say no afterwards, then we part ways and never speak again if that is what you truly want," Mustang assured firmly. "I'm not going to force you to join the Military and become State Alchemists, but I am going to ask that you at least listen to what is being offered to you and take the time to consider what you could gain from the Military, in return for your service to the State of Amestris."

"What would we gain, sir?" Al asked timidly when Ed continued to scowl at Mustang.

"For starts, you'll receive privileges and access to otherwise restricted research materials. You'll receive funding and opportunities to further your own research. Plus, you'll receive the Military rank of major," Mustang explained. "You'll also be provided with a place to stay, as well as food, when you're not out on assignment. The actual pay isn't all that bad either."

"And in return we become dogs of the Military, bound by leash and collar, jumping when you say jump, heading off to war when called." Ed sneered. _No way in hell. _Not if they could truly walk away from the offer without suffering further consequences for what they had done. "No thanks, Lieutenant Colonel."

"Come now, Edward, you're not seriously telling me that prodigies like you and your brother plan on spending the rest of your lives in this backwater village fixing roofs and broken toys?" Mustang smirked and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest with a smug air. "Surely, after driving yourselves towards your full potential from the time of your infancy, you aren't going to just give up on all that you might be capable of due to a few lost limbs and one failed transmutation? I hear that old woman and Miss Rockbell are some of best automail engineers around. Why not get two legs under you and put them to good use, instead of wallowing around here as glorified repairmen?"

"Alchemists be thou for the people," Ed growled in return. Teacher had warned them enough about the State Alchemists. He wasn't going to be fooled.

"Alchemists are men of science," Mustang countered. "While we may be able to serve the people in an immediately sense by fixing a few broken things here and there, we best serve the people by indulging what we are. Through invention and expanding our knowledge we far better serve the people – not only now, but well into the future as well – than by fixing a few leaky roofs that the people could have fixed for themselves, if they weren't too lazy to climb up a ladder with a hammer and a hand full of nails. Don't get me wrong, the Military does in fact send out its alchemists to the villages every once in a while to serve the people just so," Mustang added in response to the accusatory looks that he was receiving from the brothers. "I'm not saying that I don't believe in helping the people in that way. However, the Military also provides the opportunity for its alchemists to serve the people in a far greater capacity than a few fixed trinkets. With your brains, you could have a huge impact on this country's future."

"And when they call us in to kill our own countrymen, like in Ishval?" Ed challenged, refusal still in his eyes.

Mustang sighed, his own eyes falling shut for a brief moment, before opening to match Ed's fiery gaze. "War is a duty that you'll have to fulfill should the orders once more be sent out. You don't have to like it, but it is part of the package. Still, if you act accordingly – toe the line where it ought to be toed, never overstepping in the wrong place or with notice – you'll be able to do a whole lot more good than you could ever do here, where you would just waste the natural talent that you and your brother so obviously possess." He gestured around the small bedroom. "You can't tell me that you're sitting on a small fortune or that you have access to a vast amount of information that the State doesn't that will allow you to reach the same potential that you could if you did become State Alchemists."

To that, Ed had nothing to say. Their dad had left their mom some money, which she had in turn left to them, but they had already spent part of that money to train with Teacher. By the time he and Al paid for automail limbs, they'd be broke without so much as five cens to their name. And, even though they did have their dad's books and their newly acquired knowledge from the Truth, they didn't know everything and were far from having endless texts and research notes on obscure fields of alchemy at their disposal.

"Just think about it," Mustang said, looking from Ed to Al and back to Ed again, before smoothly rising to his feet. "You don't have to give your answer now. When you've considered it fully, give me a call at Central Command."

With that, Mustang replaced the chair at the desk and promptly exited the room, leaving Ed and Al to stare after him.

"Brother?" Al asked, once the door had shut firmly behind Lieutenant Colonel Mustang.

"We're going to have to think about this," Ed said seriously, deciding that maybe they might actually want to consider the offer before outright turning it down a third and final time. Not to mention, Mustang had already left and would be completely gone from the house and Resembool by nightfall. If they decided they really didn't want to be State Alchemists, they could always just call him at the end of the week. There was no real sense in yelling after the man now, especially when he wasn't entirely sure that he and Al should turn down the offer. Mustang had put an entirely different perspective on what State Alchemists did and could do compared to the opinions of Teacher and Granny Pinako.


	3. One Year

**Chapter Three: One Year**

The morning dawned bright and early. The new summer sun had only just begun its ascent over the small, eastern village of Resembool, casting its golden hues across the slowly lightening, cerulean sky. Off in the distances, beyond the grassy hill to the south, Mr. Jacob's roosters crowed with the rising sun and the beginning of a new day.

_A new life,_ Alphonse Elric thought to himself, as he gazed out the window of his and his brother's bedroom.

It was hard to believe that it had been a year, that an entire year had passed since he and his brother had attempted the forbidden. To this day, Al wasn't quite sure what it was that he and his brother had been thinking. Now living with the results of their attempt at human transmutation, he was certain that they hadn't been thinking at all. Ed somewhat agreed with him to that effect, though his brother stubbornly stood by their theorems and calculations.

"_Everything was perfect. We had it right."_

And it would have worked the way they had wanted it to, if they hadn't been missing something. If they had just stopped and took a minute to set aside their arrogance and account for things properly, the transmutation _might_ have been the success that they had so desperately wanted it to be. Then again, if they had stopped and allowed themselves to gain perspective, they most likely would have realized just how impossible what they had been attempting to do truly was. What it was that they had been missing, neither he nor Ed were entirely certain of, but they had concluded that, whatever it was, its value was more than a few drops of blood. In fact, after thinking on it over the last year, Al had come to the resolution that there was nothing in the whole of Amestris, or the world for that matter, that they could have exchanged for their mother's soul. She was dead, gone. Her soul was resting in the afterlife, unattainable to them.

Naturally, it had been Ed, who had worked out what had truly occurred during the transmutation that they had preformed. Despite not having what was needed to obtain their mother's soul, they had had everything else that was required for the construction of a human body and, according to the report that Mustang had left them along with their surviving notes, they had in fact succeeded in transmuting a body of sorts. Though the body that they had created had been male and had not resembled their mother in the slightest, it had been a human body all the same. Ed's theory was that their transmutation had done exactly as they had intended and what they experienced had not been a rebound.

"_Al, there is no way to measure a soul. We knew this even back when we first began discussing bring Mom back. We never even factored her soul into our calculations, not really. A soul just isn't tangible. Its value isn't tangible. How could we have attempted to obtain something that we had nothing to exchange for in return that night, if we hadn't actually factored her soul into the transmutation?"_

If Ed was right about what had actually happened, which Al was now certain that his brother was, they hadn't lost their limbs due to miscalculation or a rebound. No, they'd been pulled into the Gate of Truth, as they had taken to calling the white plane and massive stone doors that they had encountered, because they'd been seeking to create life when they had no business in attempting to do so. Or that was what Ed believed. His brother claimed that they'd been messing around with things that they had no understanding of and no way of factoring into equivalent values and that was what had done them in, that was why they had ended up at the Gate and had lost their limbs to the Truth in exchange for a measure of the Truth (knowledge) in return.

"_Just think about it. How is each of us loosing an arm and a leg equivalent exchange, if we didn't actually obtain something of equal value for our loss? I mean, it might just be punishment, but the Truth did allow us access to a whole shit ton of information that we hadn't been privy to and most likely never would have been privy to. Not to mention, it had said that our arms and legs were a toll for what we had been allowed to see and that what we had seen was all that it could show us for the toll we had paid." _

So it was that they had indeed been messing around with things that neither of them had an adequate understanding of, nor the ability to measure in equivalent values. Al was not certain how knowledge compared to human flesh, but if knowledge actually could be exchanged for parts of the body in such a manner, then the Truth had brought a quite literal meaning to the phrase 'costs an arm and a leg'.

"_Really, we had it right. We just weren't transmuting what we thought we were transmuting. We weren't bringing Mom back, Al. We were creating a whole new human life. If that thing had lived, we really would have done the impossible! Thousands of years of alchemist trying to create life and we damn near succeeded!"_

The fact that there had been no energy backlash from their transmutation that was typical of a rebound and that they, along with their house, had survived the transmutation relatively intact only supported Ed's claims that their attempt at human transmutation had actually been a relative success.

In all honesty, what they had done scared Al. Yet, a small part of him was exhilarated by their accomplishment. Mustang had noted in his report that the lungs of the body that had resulted from their transmutation had been expanded when he had incinerated it, suggesting that it had been alive, breathing and all, at one point. Whether it had lived for more than a few seconds or would have been capable of functioning as a living human being, they would never know. He and Ed had agreed that to attempt to bring their mom back had been foolish and that to even contemplate attempting the transmutation a second time was even more foolish. There was no way of knowing what the Truth would do to them, if they returned to the Gate. Not even for the sake of doing the impossible were they willing to risk a return trip.

"Ready?" Ed's voice broke through Al's concentration.

"As I'll ever be." Al smiled, as he turned away from the window and the rising sun to face his brother.

Ed stood in the open doorway of their room dressed in a black vest with a black leather jacket over top, black leather pants slung on his hips, and all terrain boots strapped to his feet. His crimson overcoat with their teacher's symbol, the Flamel, stitched into the back was folded over his flesh arm, while he had his new travel satchel grasped firm in his automail hand and slung back over his right shoulder. He returned his brother's grin with eagerness and excitement alight in his eyes. At the purposeful nod that he gave to the packed travel satchel and royal blue overcoat that was nearly identical to his crimson one that was resting on Al's bed, Al knew the time had finally come.

"So we're really going do this?" Al asked, as he pulled the blue overcoat over his own leather ensemble and picked up the satchel.

Ed nodded without a shred of visible doubt in the action.

Al expected no less, but had wanted to be sure. After all, they had been working towards this day for nearly a year now and what they were setting out to do was not to be taken lightly.

–

_The room was warm, almost sweltering with the humidity clinging to the air. Faint sunlit poured in through the thin, brown blanket covering the room's single window, casting dim shadows over the two bed ridden boys, as they attempted to rest. Minutes passed uncomfortably, as the two shifted in their beds, contending with the summer heat and the pain of their injuries for sleep._

"_Fuck it," the elder of the two boys cursed, yanking his sheets away from him with a frustrated huff._

"_Be careful, brother," the younger brother chided. "You'll upset your ports and Granny will have to reset them again."_

_Ed gritted his teeth. _

_Al sighed. They had known that getting automail would be painful, but they hadn't realized just how painful the process would be. So far, between losing his limbs to begin with and the pain of the ports being attached, he hadn't had a single moment where there had not been a dull thrum of pain aching through his body. He knew Ed was in just as much pain as him, despite his brother doing everything he could not to show it._

"_Brother, when Granny finishes our automail, what do you want to do after?" Al asked, hoping to distract Ed._

"_I don't know." Ed turned his head to look at Al. "We could stay here and help out in the village when we're needed or …" he took in a deep breath, as if bracing himself, "or we could go to Central."_

"_You mean accept Lieutenant Colonel Mustang's offer?" Al asked, his eyes flying wide. He knew that Ed had suggested that they think about it, but he hadn't known that Ed had actually been giving it serious thought. The fact that Ed even brought it up, suggesting it as a legitimate option for their future and seeking his opinion in regards to it, spoke volumes of just how much his brother was actually considering accepting the offer._

"_Shh!" Ed hushed sharply and sent a pointed look at the door. "Keep it down."_

"_Right." Al nodded. Granny and Winry didn't know about the lieutenant colonel's offer and he and Ed had agreed to keep it that way, at least for the time being. Granny was very outspoken about her opinions of the Military and State Alchemists in particular, while Winry simply hated the Military, as she blamed soldiers for her parents' death. _

"_Seriously, though, Al," Ed said, drawing Al's attention back to him, "what do you think?"_

"_I'm not sure," Al said hesitantly. He hadn't really given it much thought, as he had just assumed that Ed would mull it over and then decide against it without really consulting him about it. "I mean, it sounds interesting. We'd have all sorts of information available to us and money to travel around with, while gaining further knowledge. There'd be a lot of potential to do a lot of great things, and we could really help people, not just people here in Resembool, but all across the State."_

_Ed sighed. "I've been thinking about that."_

"_But?" Al prodded, knowing that there was a 'but', because even he had a 'but' – a very big 'but' – that stopped him from jumping at the offer._

"_But nothing," Ed said, after taking a moment to consider how to answer his brother. He lay back in his bed and turned his face up towards the ceiling, his eyes narrowing and his brow furrowing contemplatively. "Al, if we really think about it … if we put things in proper context … serving the Military in a time of war is just one more way of helping people. By going to the front lines and using our skills, we'd be saving our own soldiers' lives, as well as be protecting the State of Amestris as a whole."_

"_What about Ishval, brother?" Al demanded, stunned. He jerked up in his bed to glare at Ed, hardly believing it was his brother saying these things. But then again, his stubborn, idiot brother had always been able to rationalize anything, if he wanted it bad enough._

_Ed hesitated. "Ishval is over, Al. And after what happen there, I doubt people are prepared to strike up another civil war any time soon. If we do become State Alchemists and we do get called to war, it will most likely be against Drachma."_

"_You real want to do it, don't you?" Al asked. He could hear it in his brother's voice and see it in his brother's face, as well as in the tension in his brother's body. Ed had never been one to sit idle and the opportunity to travel and expand his knowledge was clearly proving too much for his sensibilities to handle._

"_O-only if you want to too," Ed said, shifting his gaze from the ceiling back to Al. "If you don't want to, we can stay here or maybe do a bit of traveling on our own, when we scrape together enough money."_

_Al shut his eyes, his one hand twisting in the sheets with uncertainty and conflict. He didn't necessarily like it, but how Ed actually expected him to refuse him was beyond him. The idea of being called to war didn't sit well with him – war meant killing – though he supposed that Ed was right. If they did get called to war, it would most likely be against Drachma. Ishval had quelled a good majority of the unrest throughout the State. No Amestrian citizen with any brains was eager to tangle with the Military._

"_Forget it," Ed said resignedly, causing Al to reopen his eyes and look to him. "Forget that I even said anything. I'll call –"_

"_I want to do it, brother," Al cut Ed off, before his stupid brother could say anything further or do something noble. Ed was always giving things up for him. This was the first time Ed had ever really asked him for anything. He could at the least give his brother this one thing, and it wasn't like he didn't see the good that would come with the bad and wasn't tempted by the offer himself. Teacher was going to kill them. "Let's become State Alchemists." _

–

"I'm sure going to miss this place," Ed said, shrugging on his crimson coat, as they paused just inside the front door.

"Yeah," Al agreed softly, handing Ed back his satchel.

Together, the two brothers stepped out into the crisp morning air. Al watched from the side, as Ed locked the house behind them, before proceeding to bend down and slip the key into a crack at the bottom of the door frame, where the weather had done damage to the wood.

"Winry will figure it out," Ed said surely, as he stood.

"I still think we should tell them." Al shifted his own satchel from his flesh shoulder to his automail one, feeling uncomfortable about leaving without saying goodbye in person.

"They'll get the letter this afternoon, and by that time, we ought to be far enough gone that Winry can't chase us down with her wrenches," Ed quipped, raising a lazy hand and waving away his brother's concern, as he started down the garden path. A bit more seriously, he said, "You know they wouldn't let us leave, if they knew where we're headed and why. It's better this way for everyone. Winry will have time to cool down, before she sees us next, and we won't get locked in the basement with Granny ensuring that we don't escape."

"I suppose." Al sighed, still feeling guilty.

"Come on," Ed said, smiling and giving Al's flesh shoulder a soft punch. "We've got a train to catch."

–

"Isn't she just a doll, Roy? Look, just look at her adorable, rosy cheeks. Don't they just make you want to pinch them and never let go?"

"Hughes," Roy Mustang, who was now sporting the rank of a colonel, growled at his best friend, Maes Hughes, as he pushed the picture of a pink blob in a rainbow stripped onesie out of his face – not for the first time that day, let alone that hour, or even that very minute. From behind his black bangs, he glowered up at the lieutenant colonel standing before his desk, which was for once _not _filled with paperwork. "That is the seventh time in the last two minutes that you've shown me that photo."

"I know. She is just so adorable, isn't she?" the lieutenant colonel gushed on and sighed whimsically, as he looked down at the precious photo of his beloved daughter. "Just look –"

"Hughes!" Mustang snapped sharply and tactically diverted the photo, before it could be shoved in his face for an eighth time. He was seriously losing his patience with his love sick, family oriented friend. The itch to just snap his fingers and be done with the whole stack of photos was getting harder to control with each passing second. "Hughes, I didn't call you hear to talk about your daughter – or your wife," he added quickly, upon seeing Hughes smile brightly and reach back into his stack of photos with a entirely different love stricken look on his face, suggesting that he had no doubt been about to replace the photo of his daughter, Elicia, with a photo of his wife, Gracia.

"Then what did you want to talk about?" Hughes asked, his smile deflating, and upon finally taking note of the annoyed tick twitching at the corner of Mustang's right eye, he smartly straightened his stack of photos and hastily shoved them back into the safety of his pocket, before his friend threatened to burn them for a third time that day or simply outright set them alight.

"The Elric brothers," Mustang said in answer to Hughes's question, once the photos were out of sight.

"The Elric brothers? The Elric brothers?" Hughes tapped his chin thoughtfully. "The Elric Brothers … Hmm… _Oh_, right, the kids you've somehow coerced into think that it would be a good idea for them to take the upcoming State Alchemist Certification Exam and sign up with the Military, despite being _children_," he said, while giving Mustang a reproving look. "Yes, Roy, let's talk about the Elric _boys_."

Mustang didn't even so much as flinch under his friend's disapproval. He had, after all, been expecting it. "What have you found out about them?"

"Who says I was even looking into them?" Hughes countered and raised a querying eyebrow.

"I know you, Hughes." Mustang smirked at his friend. "You like butting into my business far too much to not have looked into them."

"So I do." Hughes sighed, as he plopped down on one of the two leather couches not far from Roy's desk, which sat facing each other with a coffee table in between and the doors to Roy's office five paces from the opposite end. "But we both know you need someone to look out for you."

"What'd your best efforts turn up?" Mustang asked, giving Hughes an expectant look. If there was a man who could dig up the Elrics' past, it was the man sitting before him now. Hughes had eyes and ears everywhere, from one end of Amestris to the other. If there were something of negative consequence regarding the Elrics to be found, Maes Hughes would have found it.

"Their given names are Edward and Alphonse. Their assumed surname is Elric. Edward was born February 3rd, 1899, making him 12 years old. Alphonse was born May 20th, 1900, making him a little over a year younger and 11 years old. They've been considered permanent residents of Resembool for the entirety of their lives," Hughes rattled off, as he gave his report on the boys. "With a little bit of digging, I managed to uncover that their mother was Trisha Elric, a kind hearted and generally well liked woman. She died in the spring of 1904 at the age of 26, cause of death: seasonal illness. Though Trisha Elric never married the man, nor did she end up marrying any other man for that matter, the boys' father had left her and the boys a generous sum of money, upon walking out on them two years prior to her death – a sum of money which she never touched and a sum of money which she passed onto the boys, upon her death, leaving the two substantially provided for. According to my sources, the boys were mainly looked after and generally cared for by Pinako Rockbell in the years following. The two attended the local school in Resembool with Mrs. Rockbell's granddaughter and both are considered exceedingly bright."

"That's all you've got?" Mustang asked surprised. Perhaps he had been overestimating Hughes's skills, or maybe he had just been underestimating how resourceful the boys could be.

"Well, Roy, _if _I didn't know any better," Hughes's eyes narrowed into suspicious slits behind his glasses, "I'd say they're exactly as boring as they seem. But seeing as I _do_ know you and what sorts of things catch and hold your interest, I'd say that they've got something to hide and that someone has taken a fair bit of time, as well as taken all the proper precautions, to help them in doing the hiding. Now you wouldn't happen to know anything about that, _would_ you, Roy?"

"What of their father?" Mustang asked, sidestepping Hughes's question for the time being.

"I only got a description: tall, long blond hair, a beard, and wears glasses. Supposedly, the boys look far more like him and very little like their mother." Hughes's expression switched to a frown, his keen eyes sweeping over Mustang's form in a studying fashion, as if attempting to suss out what Mustang wasn't telling him.

"And their automail?" Mustang queried, playing oblivious to Hughes's searching gaze.

"They've got automail?" Hughes sputtered in shock.

"Good." Mustang said, satisfied. And he really was. If Hughes hadn't been able to dig up so much as a speck of dirt on the brothers, the boys' past would be safe from all others who dared attempt to pry.

"Now that you're done conducting your little test," Hughes bit out, looking far more curious than annoyed, "are you going to tell me just who in the hell these boys are and what exactly it was that they did to so ensnare your interest that you've actually put in the effort yourself to wiped their backgrounds of any significant information when you'd normally have come to me and asked me do it for you?"

"I'm sorry, Hughes, but no. There are some things that you are better off not knowing," Mustang said, his brusque tone and the sharp, protective look in his eyes suggesting that no manner of prodding, nor any form of interrogation would get him to speak of the secrets that he was helping the brothers keep. "Thank you, though, for putting my mind at easy concerning the boys' past."

"Roy, what are you getting yourself into?" Hughes asked cautiously, as he leaned forward in his seat and looked to Mustang with unconcealed worry.

"Let's just say that I established contact with the two a little over a year ago and have kept off and on contact with them over the last twelve and a half months … and let's just say that the more I've spoken with them, the greater in value I've realized they actually are," Mustang said, being sure to word his response carefully, as Hughes was no doubt listening for a tell of some sort that could give him more information than he intended for him to have. Upon seeing Hughes's face shift from worried to downright wary and highly concerned, he added, "Trust me, Hughes. I've never been more sure of anything in my entire life, and neither have the brothers. Perhaps, at first, there was a tad bit of coercion on my part for them to join the State Alchemists, but I promise you that at this very moment joining our ranks is something those two want to do completely of their own volition."

"And you're confident that they'll pass?" Hughes asked, the skepticism in his voice palpable.

"With flying colors." Mustang nodded. Oh, there was no doubt in his mind that the two would pass. As if the two hadn't already been prodigies enough before experiencing the Gate of Truth, they had come out of the Gate with skills and innate knowledge regarding alchemy that he, himself, envied, and he considered himself one of the more accomplished alchemists of the modern age.

"You plan to lobby for the both of them to be placed under your command," Hughes stated as a fact, rather than a question. "Can you really claim them both?"

"It's practically already arranged," Mustang affirmed with a smirk, while thinking of the slow manipulations, the buildup of favors and blackmail, and the slightest touch of gambling that he had engaged in over the past year. Really, why General Halcrow thought that promoting him to colonel would be consider equivalent exchange for him holding his tongue and not telling the man's wife of thirty years about the man's ongoing affair with 1st Lieutenant Allen was beyond him, seeing as the promotion really should have been his to begin with for the near three months worth of painstaking undercover work that he and his team had done in order to avert the eventual complete destabilization of the State's economy and bring down Alexander Riter, the alchemist master mind behind the periodic influxes of gold over the last five, once and for all – and that was only his most recent accomplishment. Frankly, the general's assumption that he could be bought off with a promotion that should have been his in the first place was insulting, if he did say so himself. But, at last, the Elric brothers would be firmly tying up that particular loose end soon enough. "If all goes to plan, Maes, their induction into the Military should go rather smoothly."

"They're children, Roy," Hughes said, disapproval once more making an appearance on his face.

"We were all children at one point," Mustang shrugged, doing his best to look impassive. He knew the real truth and children was not what he would call the Elric brothers. The elder of the Elrics hadn't been a child, not since the boys' mother died, having taken it upon himself to look after his younger brother. And while the younger had been permitted a somewhat extended childhood compared to the very short childhood of his older brother, the younger Elric had been forced to grow up considerably fast as well, especially over the last year. By technicality of physical age, the two may still be considered children, but, in reality, the two had already seen and done a lot more than what most adults had or ever would. Children, they were not.


	4. Taking Down the Blue Squad

**Chapter 4: Taking Down the Blue Squad **

The train steamed down the iron rails leading away from East City towards Central with a steady _click-clack-click-clack_ of its wheels and a few sporadic jolts to its carriages and cargo, where the tracks became abruptly uneven before quickly smoothing out again. Life inside the train was fairly subdued. Most of the passengers contented themselves with quite conversation or picking their way through a piece of literature that they had brought along for the ride.

Edward Elric yawned and stretched out further on the uncomfortable bench seat that he was sprawled out upon, before looking over at his brother, Al. The younger blond boy was curled up fast asleep on the bench seat opposite Ed with his blue coat folded under his head as a pillow.

Ed sighed, lacking the heart to wake his brother, so that he might catch some much needed shuteye, while his brother traded off to the task of monitoring the train's activities.

"The colonel better not have been wrong about this," he muttered to himself, while turning to glare out the window at the passing countryside. So far, he and Al had seen nothing suspicious. Though, what they were supposed to be looking out for hadn't exactly been clear. All that Mustang had given them to go on was that this train was the one that General Halcrow and the general's family would be traveling on, upon their return to Central from their vacation in the East, and that there was a high probability of the train being targeted sometime before it fully left the East District. Targeted how and by whom, Mustang hadn't said. "Not even under his command yet and the bastard is already giving us vague orders."

"You know he has his reasons."

Ed looked back to his brother, finding Al awake and staring up at him. Out of the two of them, Al trusted Mustang the most, despite having less actual contact with the colonel.

"I know, Al, but it would have been nice if he had at least told us a bit more about who we should be watching for," Ed said, peeved. He didn't actually mind the assignment, and he understood that it was crucial to their futures as State Alchemists. Mustang had said as much. However, the monotony of the train ride was wearing on him. Going on two days of hard bench seats and the never ending rattle of the train's wheels against the tracks had slowly grated on his nerves and obliterated his patience. He just wanted whatever was going to happen to just happen already, so he could stop worrying about it.

"We'll know them when they make their move," Al said confidently and pushed himself upright in his seat.

"I suppose," Ed said grudgingly.

"Why don't you get some sleep?" Al suggested, his knowing gold gaze sweeping over Ed's slumped stature and taking in the droopiness of his brother's eyes. "I'll wake you, if something happens."

Ed nodded and slouched down further in his seat. They'd be entering Central Prefecture in a few hours. If he was lucky, he'd get in a cat nap, before all hell broke loose. Then again, he'd prefer for all hell to break loose now, deal with it, and then sleep the rest of the way to Central. But, life rarely did give a person what they wanted.

–

Colonel Roy Mustang glared at the silent phone resting innocuously at the corner of his desk and drummed his fingers impatiently against the smooth, wood surface before him, exercising restrain the best he could, as he endured the pointed stare of 1st Lieutenant Hawkeye and the curious, somewhat concerned gaze of 2nd Lieutenant Havoc. While the morning had started off normal enough – Hawkeye distributing a round of coffee and Havoc placing an unlit cigarette in the corner of his mouth, before the blond man started in on his share of the paperwork that had accumulated in the office overnight – the two had soon noticed their CO's lack of focus. Hawkeye, of course, had repeatedly threatened him with her pistol to get to work, but he just hadn't been able to bring himself to read over the long winded reports that she and Havoc continued to stack upon his desk, when he knew that at any moment General Halcrow's train was going to be attacked and the Elric brothers would take action in response to said attack, as he instructed them to do.

It was a worrisome situation.

"Sir," Hawkeye began, only to falter as Mustang's glare switched from its fixed position on the phone to meeting her pointed stare head on. Straightening her shoulders under his ire, she resolved herself and pressed onward, "Sir, is there something going on that we should know about, or perhaps something that you require assistance with?"

"Everything is in order," Mustang said, forcing himself to appear relaxed.

The phone call would come in soon. He was sure of it. According to the train schedule, there was only an hour left before the LE 04840 would be crossing over into Central Prefecture. If the Easter Liberation Front was going to retaliate for the capture of one of their generals, Halcrow's current vulnerability was too great of an opportunity to pass up. The ELF would need to act soon and shut down the train to further passenger exchange before leaving the Eastern District, as well as begin the negotiations for their agent's release.

"Chief, with all due respect –"

Whatever Havoc was about to say was cut off by the shrill ringing of the phone. Practically jumping at the object that had been the focus of his irritation for a good majority of the morning, Mustang snatched up the receiver and pressed it to his ear.

"_We've got a call to headquarters from General Halcrow. He says that it is an emergence."_

"Patch it through," Mustang ordered urgently. This was it. There was a second of silence, before the general's voice came on the line.

"_It's me. Colonel Mustang, are you there? – Speaking for the Eastern Liberation Front, Blue Squad,"_ a gravelly voice interrupted Halcrow. _"The name is Bald. We got the train and your general."_

"What do you want?" Mustang asked, taking note of the name Bald and the reference of Blue Squad. He would use the information later, when interrogating the outlaws.

"_Don't play stupid. We lost contact with one of our allies last Friday, someone who was supposed to deliver a manifesto to you."_

"I don't know what you mean," Mustang said in response to the accusation, keeping his voice calm and smooth. Seeing as he had been the one to engineered Mark Petro's capture, he knew very well what Bald meant. However, admitting as much would only make Bald feel more entitled to his current course of action than the man already did.

"_Okay fine, I'll give you the short version." _Bald huffed angrily into the phone. _"You have our leader in prison eight. Bring him to Central Station. We'll have ourselves a trade."_

"Very well then, we have a deal," Mustang consented, following the plan that he had established with the boys for this particular eventuality. "But I don't want any fatalities. If one man –"

The line went dead.

"You're sure about this?" Hawkeye asked uncertainly, having picked up on the general essence of the phone conversation between her CO and Bald. "They have the general. They're serious."

Mustang nodded. He knew very well how serious the situation was. He knew better than even she did. Despite having put a protective detail on Halcrow, he had expected something of this sort to happen regardless. All actions have consequences, after all. Now that contact with the rebels had been established and Bald believed that he and his men would get their way, which meant that they would be less incline to hurt Halcrow or any of the passengers for the time being, it would be up to the Elric brothers to take action and save Halcrow, Halcrow's family, his ass (because it would be his ass, if anything happened to Halcrow or Halcrow's family), as well as secure their own futures in the Military. It was a tall order, he knew, but he had confidence in their abilities. They would not let him down.

"Sir, you know the general's police on negotiating with terrorists. He'll hold you –" Hawkeye protested from where both she and Havoc now stood before his desk awaiting orders.

"Easy, Hawkeye," he soothed and let a smirk play across his lips. He'd hardly call the plan that he had in place a negotiation, and he was confident that, while Bald most definitely wouldn't be happy about it, the general would be please with the end results … that is, until Halcrow found out what it was going to cost to be once more indebted to him. "No one's really negotiating with anyone," he informed. "I've already made arrangements."

"Sir?" Hawkeyes said, surprised.

"Please send for Hughes," Mustang requested, looking up at her. "Security, along with an investigations team, will need to be present when the train arrives at Central Station."

"Yes, sir," Hawkeyes said, before snapping a salute and retreating to fulfill the order.

"Get in contact with the Transit Commissioner," Mustang said, turning his gaze on Havoc. "Tell him that we have a hostage situation with LE 04840, but not to worry, as the Military has a course of counteraction already in place and the situation ought to be fully resolved, before the train even reaches Central Station."

"Might I ask what the Military's course of counteraction is, sir?" Havoc ventured.

Mustang simply nodded to the still open doors of his office. There would be time to fill everyone in later. Right now, they had a job to do.

With a salute, Havoc obeyed the dismissal and left to get a hold of the Transit Commissioner.

–

Ed grunted, as he put one foot in front of the other. Train walking was not as easy or as cool as it had sounded down below, after he and Al had taken out the two gunmen, who had suddenly jumped up from their seats and announced that they were taking the train hostage. The force of the wind whipping at his body made it very difficult to take even a single step, let alone jump the gap from one car to the other. He could only hope that Al was having an easier time of things down below.

–

Al smirked internally, as he entered the cabin and saw the two gunmen, who were holding the passengers hostage, look to him in confusion. There was just something to be said about adults facing a child in combat. They hesitated. They underestimated. Most importantly, they never expected a kid to actually attack them with the intention of seeking a fight, when the safer bet for the child would be to cower and submit instead.

_And they call us the naïve ones,_ Al thought, as he watched the gunmen drop their guard the slightest bit just at the sight of him.

"Hey, boy," the burly, dark haired man barked. "What do you think you're doing?"

"P-please, sir," Al said, letting fear quaver his voice. "I-I'm looking for my brother, sir. He w-went to stretch his legs and we got s-separated. Those men back there said I c-could find him, i-if I really felt that I n-n-need t-to. He's m-my only family."

The burly man looked to his accomplice, a light brown haired man wearing a stock hat. A silent conversation seemed to pass between the two, before the burly man sighed and turned back to Al.

"Alright, you can go find your brother," the man narrowed his eyes threateningly, "but no funny business, kid. You understand? You find your brother, and then both of you sit down and keep quiet for the rest of the trip. You go that?"

"Y-yes, sir," Al said, looking grateful. "Thank you, sir."

_Too easy, _Al silently cheered himself, as he began to approach the unsuspecting gunmen. _Brother would be proud._

Upon coming up level with the first of the gunmen, the one wearing the stock hat, Al pretended to trip and fall into the man. In the process, he made sure to knock the man's gun out of the man's hands and send it flying under the nearest seats. For now, he disregarded the startled screams of the passengers and focused on controlling the situation.

"Hey, what do you –"

Al didn't let the man finish. While simultaneously kicking out with his right leg at the fast approaching burly man, who was no doubt coming to pull him off his accomplice, he thumped the stock hat man already under him over the head with his left fist. There were two distinct thwacks of metal meeting flesh and bone, followed by the burly man crashing into the side of the seats a little ways back up the aisle. The closest passengers jumped away in fear, as the force of the man's landing caused the man to yell out in pain and sent the burly man's gun skidding across the floor.

"Oops," Al said innocently, before setting to the task of ensuring that the two gunmen were out of the fight and wouldn't be getting up and causing trouble anytime soon. Looking down at the two unconscious, bound up men a few minutes later, he grinned. "Now, no funny business, you two. You both just sit here and keep quiet for the rest of the trip. You go that?"

–

"Ha! Finally made it!" Ed said in triumph, as he clamored his way atop the steam engine. "Now," he said, while carefully and as quietly as possible making his way over to the right edge. Securing himself so that he didn't fall, he lowered the upper half of his body down over the edge, so that he could peer into the engine room below. He jerked back quickly at seeing two gunmen holding the conductors at gun point.

_I'll need a distraction,_ he thought, as he accounted for the likelihood of him getting into the room below without him or one of the conductors getting shot. Even if he made his own entrance through the roof, bullets were likely to start flying with no regard for the life that they would take. While it was a possibility that the gunmen just might shoot each other and save him the trouble, it was more likely that he or one of the conductors would get shot full of bullets. Either way, though, flying bullets was completely counterproductive to his goals. Mustang didn't want anyone shot – not him, Al, the passengers or train employees, not General Halcrow, the security detail on board, or even the gunmen themselves.

"_No fatalities, Ed, and try not to let anyone get shot, if you can manage it," Mustang's voice had instructed sternly through the phone. "Gunshot wounds and fatalities cause too much paperwork. Just try to keep it as clean as possible, all right?"_

Things had sounded simpler at the time. Get on a train, wait for the bad guys to show themselves, stop the bad guys' nefarious plot, and arrive at Central with General Halcrow firmly in their debt, owing both them and Mustang a huge favor. With Mustang's sponsorship and Halcrow indebted to them, he and Al would be allowed to take the upcoming State Alchemists Certification Exam, their age disregarded.

Now faced with two gunmen in close-quarters, which he somehow had to penetrate without causing too much of a stir, before he even got the opportunity to set about neutralizing the gunmen, Ed was beginning to think that nothing in life was ever as simple as it sounded or ought to be. All things considered, however, he did have the upper hand, as he did have surprise on his side.

"Right then," Ed murmured with firm resolve and set about shrugging off his crimson coat.

Leaning back over the edge and wasting no time with risking being seen before he wanted to be, Ed flung his loosely wadded up coat towards the nearest gunman. Just as he planned, the coat expanded from its loose tangle and acted as blanket of red flying through the window and attacking the man. _A decent enough distraction, _he mentally patted himself on the back, as he quickly pulled back over the edge and out of sight.

"What the –" came a shout from below, only to be muffled by fabric.

"Move over, idiot! Someone's out there!" was the other's shout.

With the speed of his training, Ed crossed the roof of the locomotive beneath him and stealthily dropped into the engine room through the opposite window. He smirked satisfactorily at seeing one of the gunmen fighting with his coat, which had twisted about the man's head, and the other gunman standing totally open to attack with his own head stuck out the window that he had just thrown his coat through. The two conductors had seemed to have realized what his ploy meant and were in the process of arming themselves with two shovels that had been resting near the controls. Upon taking notice of his entrance, Ed nodded to the gunman beginning to pull his head back through the window.

Just as the gunman withdrew back into the cabin completely and the other managed to rip Ed's coat away from his face, Ed and the conductors attacked. It was quick work to subdue the two. The gunmen's guards were already shaken by Ed's distraction and before either could even so much as raise their guns, they were out cold.

"Well, that worked better than I expected," Ed said, while pushing himself up and off the man that he'd knocked out, and reclaimed his coat.

"I think we have some rope here somewhere that we can tie them up with," the taller of the two conductors said and began searching for the rope that they kept onboard.

–

"Bald," a well built man with a riffle slung over his shoulder said irritably from where he stood by a phone box with the phone receiver in hand.

A long haired man with an eye patch over his right eye looked to the man, briefly turning his attentions away from the private, first class cabin that held the military general that he and the men were holding captive. His look alone demanded an answer for why the other man was disturbing him.

"The rear cars have stopped responding," the well built man said and glared down at the phone receiver, which had yielded no communications with their partners in the rear cars.

"What's going on?" a man with a bandana tied around his head demanded, looking between their leader and the well built man with confusion.

"That damn Mustang is reneging on our deal, that's what," Bald spat spitefully.

"Did you really think this could work?" General Halcrow asked from where he sat on the bench seat across from his family within his appointed first class cabin.

Bald turned back to the general, his face contorted with rage and annoyance.

"You're a ragtag extremist group with and outdated cause. You can't out gun the State Military. Why don't you just surrender while you still c – Ah!" Halcrow yelled, as a bullet pierced through his left ear, just barely missing his head.

"I'm the one who is giving the orders around here, general. And don't you forget it," Bald said, looking menacing and not at all amuse by the general's advice. Turning to his men, he said, "I want a fresh sweep of every inch of this train. Understand? And check the outsides too, top to bottom!"

–

Al gave the passengers a reassuring smile, as he finished up securing the two gunmen that he had just taken out. Like the ones before them, the two gunmen had bought his tearful tale of looking for his brother hook, line, and sinker. If the two idiots had had any brains at all, they would have realized that this was the last car before the first class cabins, which were empty outside of the Halcrow family.

"Everything is going to be fine," Al said, while looking to the terrified faces before him. "Just remain calm. My older brother should be securing the engine room right about now. By the time we reach Central, the situation will be fully contained. You've nothing to worry about. I promise."

"Thank you, young man," an elderly gentleman said gratefully. "You've save us. You've save all our lives."

"I've got to go," Al said and turned to the far door that led to the first class cabins.

With a firm resolve to see the mission through, Al exited the safety of the passenger car and stepped out onto its outer deck.

The sound of a gunshot cracking through the air followed not long after by what sound like cannon fire and a scream had him frozen in place.

"Brother, you're so excessive." Al rolled his eyes, upon catching sight of a metal panel and a cannon ball hurling past overhead and into the lake below. That was most definitely Ed's handy work. It was just like his brother to face off a gun with a cannon.

–

With a clap of his hands, Ed returned the cannon that he had transmuted from the metals of train to its original form.

"Hey, you, don't mess with that tender!" one the conductors yelled up at him from the engine room. "It's the life of this train!"

"Tender, huh?" Ed said, as he accounted for the coal and water that made up the fuel for the steam engine and an idea began to form in his mind. Standing atop the box of tender and looking down at the passenger car housing the first class cabins, a manacle grin found its way on to his face. This was going to be good.

Quickly picking through array designs to come up with the one that would give him the results that he wanted, Ed bent down to the metal surface beneath his feet and clapped his hands, envisioning the array. Upon pressing his hands to the box of tender, a thin pipe formed into existence, piercing through the door of the first class cabins and extending up to his position atop the tender.

Speaking into the end of the newly formed pipe, he yelled, "Attention gun toting extremists, we have recaptured the engine room and rear cars. Release the hostages and surrender. Fail to do so and we will make you surrender by force."

"_Fuck off, I don't know who you are, but as long as we have the hostages, we can't lose,"_ a gravelly voice carried back through the pipe. _"Try to interfere and I'll kill these hostages one by one."_

Ed scowled at his end of the pipe, before shrugging. "Alright, but just remember that you asked for it. Passengers, negotiations have failed, please take cover."

With another clap of his hands, a second pipe joined the first. This one, however, was much greater in diameter. Turning the valve, the rush of water followed by several startled yelps sounded from the first class cabins. He smirked at seeing a blue flash of alchemy on the opposite end of the passenger car followed by the water rapidly receding and the sounds of his brother doing what he did best.

Al had made it just fine and just in time. He really couldn't have planned it better.

Backing up and giving himself a running jump, Ed leaped from the tender to the top of the first class cabins. Crossing the distance quickly, he jumped through the hatch that he had blown the lid off of earlier with his cannon, when one of the goons had attempted to shoot at him.

_Shouldn't have called me so small that I could be mistaken for a mouse,_ Ed grumbled in his mind, as he dropped onto the sopping floor of the cabin below.

Catching sight of a man with an eye patch and combat automail for a left arm that had an inbuilt gun, Ed immediately clapped his hands and drew the front plating of his own automail arm into a blade.

"You're just a brat!" the man exclaimed in surprise, as if he couldn't believe that he was being bested by a child.

"You're going to pay for that brat comment!" Ed gritted out between clenched teeth, as he launched himself towards the man.

Just as the man brought up his automail arm to get a clean shot at him, Ed rammed the blade from his own automail into it and pushed it away so that the bullets went wide. Twisting his blade, the casing of the man's arm cracked and the mechanism faltered under the strain.

"You're using some pretty cheap goods," Ed snarled, before kicking out at the man with his left leg and knocking the man back towards Al, who expertly delivered the man one final punch.

In the silence that followed, all that could be heard was the churning of the train's wheels, as it continued to speed down the tracks, and the brothers' ragged breathing.

"All right?" Ed asked, after taking a moment to regain his breath.

"Yeah, you?" Al asked in return, while grinning at his brother. They both had a few scrapes and bruise, but nothing that looked too serious.

"Never better," Ed said with a grin of his own, before gesturing to the heap of unconscious gunmen. "We best tie them up and then round up the others."

As Al nodded his agreement, the sound of one of the cabin doors unlatching and sliding open drew the two boys' attention. Twin sets of gold eyes widened, as a man with light blond, slightly graying hair, who was dressed smartly in a three piece suit, stepped out into the hall. There was a grim look on the man's face, as he surveyed them and the damage, as well as the unconscious bodies, scattered about the hall.

"I am General Halcrow," the man said authoritatively.

–

Mustang snatched up the receiver the instant that the phone rang.

"_We've got another call to headquarters from General Halcrow. He says you're expecting his call."_

"I am," Mustang affirmed, leaning back in his chair and ignoring the mixed looks of curiosity and anxiety that he was receiving from Hughes and his men, who were spread about his office and had been working with him on getting themselves organized before they headed down to Central Station to meet Halcrow's train. "Patch it through."

There was a pause and then the background noise of a moving train sounded through the receiver.

"Mustang," Mustang said into the phone, letting the general know that he was on the line.

"_Colonel Mustang, this is General Halcrow," _Halcrow's voice cracked with the bad connection that was common with train switchboards. _"I'm calling to let you know that the situation on board the LE 04840 has been handled. We have 12 radicals in custody. I also thought you might like to know that your young alchemists are fine. Both are a little banged up, but nothing deeper than a surface wound. I suppose it wasn't exactly luck that they were headed your way on this particular train."_

"No, sir," Mustang said in confirmation, while sighing internally in relief at hearing that the brothers were indeed fine – not that he had doubted them, he'd been slightly worried was all. "They weren't going to make the trip to Central until the end of the month, but I asked them to do me a favor and come early. I thought that having a backup plan in place would be more prudent than ultimately risking yours and your family's safety. As you no doubt witnessed for yourself, they are quite competent … not only in combat, but in alchemy as well."

"_You want them to take the State Alchemist Certification Exam, don't you?"_ Halcrow asked, sounding not at all pleased with the prospect.

"I was going to check into the possibility, yes." Mustang smirked. It was time to set the ball in motion for the second part of his plan. Having the brothers save Halcrow and the train – indebting Halcrow to them – was the easy part. "In fact, I was going to approach you about it before you left for vacation, sir, but you seemed more eager to promote me and get me out of your office than to listen to what I actually had to say."

Halcrow growled at the reminder of their last conversation. Mustang didn't blame him. It had been far from pleasant.

"_You're a real piece of work, Mustang, you know that?"_ Halcrow demanded tetchily, clearly picking up on where their conversation was headed._ "What exactly is it that you want from me? These boys are just that – they're boys. The Military isn't going to let children join their ranks."_

"I believe it best if we discuss this matter in person, sir," Mustang said respectfully, knowing that he had to tread carefully. If he was to succeed in getting what he and the Elrics wanted, he couldn't push Halcrow too far, or the entire operation would blow up in his face. Having this discussion with the general in person would give him the much needed edge of being able to read the general's body language and facial expressions.

"_Very well,"_ Halcrow agreed. _"Once this train hostage business is settled, I want you to report to me immediately … and bring the boys with you. If I find out you've coerced them into wanting to take the Exam, Mustang, there is going to be hell to pay. They better fully understand what they're asking for or I'll have your head and there will be no way that I'll even consider doing what it is that I suspect you want me to do."_

"Understood, sir. I'll be waiting with security and an investigations team to apprehend the Blue Squad, upon your arrival in Central," Mustang informed and looked up to check the clock above his office doors for the time. "I'll see you in a half-hour."

"_Until then, Mustang,"_ Halcrow said.

Upon the line going dead, Mustang let out a breath and replaced the receiver in its cradle. Looking to Hughes and his men, who were now watching him warily, he said, "We better get a move on and secure the station. While the train is no longer under threat, they have a dozen extremist in custody awaiting transfer to our holding facilities."


	5. Looking Towards the Future

**Chapter 5: Looking Towards the Future**

Ed woke up to a hand on his automail shoulder shaking him gently from his state of sleep. With a yawn, he opened his eyes blurredly, leaving dreamland behind and rejoining reality. Upon coming face to face with a dark haired man, who he had only actually met once before and over a year ago at that, he blinked several times in confusion – his still not-quite-awake-yet brain taking its sweet ass time in catching up to the current events dictating his life. As his and Al's fight with the Bald and the rest of the men of the Blue Squad of the Eastern Liberation Front returned to him, he felt his awareness snap back into place and his confusion left him.

"Afternoon, Mustang," he mumbled, while pushing against the bench beneath him to prop himself up on his flesh elbow. Feeling the seat cushion give willingly under his weight, he couldn't help but note that the benches in the first class cabins were so much more comfortable than the ones in coach.

"It's evening, Ed," Mustang corrected and smirked down at the blond boy, as he withdrew his hand from the boy's shoulder and moved back to give Ed room to sit up.

Casting a glance out the cabin window and seeing the roof of what had to be Central Station overhead – the frosted glass paneling burnt gold in hue, instead of white and lit brightly with the afternoon sun, as it ought to have been – Ed frowned. "Did we get delayed somewhere?"

Mustang gave an amused laugh. "No, I ordered for you and Al to be left alone, until after we had the prisoners transferred and the investigations team had swept and cleared the train of all passengers and had gathered all evidence of what had happened."

"We could have gotten up. You didn't have to let us sleep," Ed said, slightly annoyed, and pushed himself to sit up.

"You looked like you could use the rest." Mustang shrugged and turned away from Ed to wake Al, who was still sound asleep on the bench opposite Ed.

With Mustang waking his brother, Ed pulled his hair out of its braid and combed his fingers through the tangled strands.

"Colonel?" Ed heard Al say in the mists of braiding his hair and tying it off once more.

"Good evening, Al," Mustang greeted.

"What time is it?" Al asked groggily, as he sat up, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and scrubbing his hands over his face to rid himself of the remnants of sleep. His hair, which had fallen almost all the way out of its ponytail, fell messily about his face and brushed gently against the tops of his shoulders.

"19:00, give or take a few minutes," Mustang replied and stepped back away from the brothers to give them a moment to gain their bearings.

As Al set about pulling his hair back into its ponytail, Ed stood and stretched, his back arching as he reached up towards the ceiling.

"General Halcrow has demanded a meeting with us," Mustang informed, as he watched the two boys shrug back on their coats and check their satchels. "We've enough time to grab some dinner before the time that I told him that we'd report to him."

"Colonel," Al said, fidgeting nervously. He hoisted his satchel on to his shoulder.

Mustang raised an inquiring eyebrow.

"General Halcrow …" Al hesitated before saying in a worried rush, "Sir, I don't think the general likes us all that much."

Ed nodded his agreement. He had gotten the same impression. The general had seemed less than pleased with them after they had told him that we were headed to Central to meet up with Mustang. It hadn't been long after they had told Halcrow of their purpose in Central that the general had ordered the security detail to put him and Al in a cabin and to watch over them. He still wasn't quite sure whether the security detail had been guarding them against being disturbed or if the detail had been _guarding_ them, as in to prevent them from causing any sort of trouble.

"General Halcrow is not my biggest fan," Mustang admitted, looking unperturbed by the news. "He believes that I've risen through the ranks too quickly for someone of my age and that I'm too ambitious for my own good. If he acted like he liked you after finding out that you are associated with me, we'd have far more to be concerned about." He looked from one brother to the other, his dark eyes turning grave. "As it is, Halcrow would love any excuse to discredit me. I tried to postpone the meeting with him, by extending the investigation here as long as I could, but he has assured me that he'll stay in his office all night, if necessary. If you give him any impression at all that I've coerced you into wanting to take the State Alchemists Certification Exam, or that you don't understand the full scope of what it means to sign up with the Military as a State Alchemist, he'll make sure that you won't be able to take the Exam, not until you're of age at the very least, and will use this to put a black mark on my record."

"Understood," Ed said, meeting Mustang's gaze with seriousness that most twelve year olds would be incapable of projecting.

"You've nothing to worry about, Colonel," Al assured, just as serious as his brother.

"Halcrow won't go easy on you," Mustang warned.

"Let him ask anything he wants," Ed said, determined fire lighting his eyes. "He'll find that Al and I aren't so easily duped."

Mustang studied the two brothers, taking in their straight backs and resolute faces, before seeming to accept their bravado. He gestured for the brothers to follow him and turned on his heal to exit the first class cabin and enter the hall beyond.

–

Despite Ed and Al's conviction, Mustang still felt worried about the meeting with Halcrow. He had spent the whole morning fretting over whether the Eastern Liberation Front would actually attack Halcrow's train or not, he then spent an agonizing hour and twenty-five minutes waiting for the phone call that would tell him that the Elrics had successfully neutralize the Blue Squad, and he had passed the last six hours frantically attempting to figure out how to finish maneuvering Halcrow into compliance. Regrettably, the only way that he could see to do so was to let the meeting with Halcrow commence and hope that Ed and Al didn't say or do something that would give Halcrow the ammunition he needed to turn the tables on him and send the boys packing.

_The bigger the payoff, the great the risk,_ Mustang reminded himself, as he led the boys off of the train and onto the cement platform between tracks four and five, _and these boys are most definitely worth the risk. Their skills alone are worth it, let alone the men that they will someday grow to be._

Though the boys didn't know it yet, they both factored into his plans of one day becoming Fuhrer of Amestris. Not only were the brothers knowledgeable alchemists and skilled fighters, they showed the tenacity and morals needed by those supporting his rise to Fuhrership. The choice to support him in becoming Fuhrer would, of course, ultimately be theirs and he would not attempt to force their support if they did not want to give it willingly, but he did like to think that he could eventually obtain the brothers' trust and, with their trust, gain their undying support, as he had with Hughes, Hawkeye, and the rest of his staff.

Mustang knew that the one thing that the two brothers had come to desire above all else was to make a difference for the people of Amestris. Like all men who found themselves unable to remain idle and live a simple life, the brothers were ambitious and readily eager to travel the far reaching expanse of their world, all the while expanding their knowledge of not only alchemy, but of all things in existence. The two brothers were seeking to push themselves towards reaching their potential and both hoped that by doing so they would one day be able to have a positive and widespread impact on the world.

Mustang knew that this was what was in the Elrics' hearts, and he knew that he was partially responsible for placing it there. A year ago, he had aimed his words at rekindling the spark of genius within the boys, desiring to prompt them to at least get up from their beds and live their lives, if not bring them to Central. They had taken a hard blow, and he had seen full grown men who had suffered less slip away into nothingness when left without a purpose. In the moment that he had spoken with the boys with the intent of stirring the embers within them, however, he had miscalculated the will of Edward Elric.

Looking back, Mustang was now certain that Ed would have gotten up on his own and dragged Al up with him. The boy had a drive that could easily develop into obsession and needed to be satiated with a focusing point of some sort. Without a doubt, Ed would have found his own purpose in life given time. Though, he did wonder if Ed wouldn't have ended up coming to Central to become a State Alchemist regardless of if he had said anything about becoming State Alchemists to the boys at all. Despite all of Ed's initial reservations, the boy had adapted to the idea of becoming a State Alchemist rather quickly. In fact, per both Ed and Al's request, he had been sending them information packets regarding military procedure and protocol, as well as a few books on the politics within the military ranks. He really hadn't expected either of the boys to take the rank of major and the actual commitment to the Military that came along with being a State Alchemist all that seriously. He had just assumed that they would simply take advantage of the research opportunities that the Military afforded them, while attempting to distance themselves from their actual obligation to the Military the best that they could, like a lot of State Alchemists did these days.

"_Listen, you bastard, you're the one that said that the Military provides its alchemists with the opportunity to serve the people in a far greater capacity than a few fixed trinkets. You are also the one that said that if we act accordingly and toe the line where it needs to be toed, never overstepping in the wrong place or with notice, we could do a whole lot more good as State Alchemists than we could ever do remaining in Resembool," Ed's voice had growled stubbornly in the receiver upon Mustang having asked why the brothers wanted information on military procedure when the rank of major was more of a novelty than an actual rank for most State Alchemist. "Al and I aren't about to do this half-assed and get ourselves chucked out all because we don't know how to work within the system. We've decided to commit to becoming State Alchemists and serving the Military and the State of Amestris in the capacity of State Alchemists, and that is what we will do, damn it! It's equivalent exchange, Mustang, and only by knowing the system can Al and I keep the exchange from becoming unbalanced. Surely, you of all people understand that."_

Ed had him pegged. Mustang did understand what Ed had been saying, better than the boy knew. Still, it had surprised him that Ed had thought on his words enough to recognize and understand what he'd been implying when he had mentioned toeing the line without ever overstepping the line in the wrong place or with notice. It was, after all, unbefitting of a military officer to outright tell the person or persons that he was trying to recruit that if they joined the Military, despite not necessarily liking everything that came along with signing on, that they didn't necessarily have to settle and bend the knee to the system, that they could instead learn the system and then utilize their knowledge of the system to step outside of it at times when they felt it necessary or more prudent to do so. It had taken him years, the massacre of Ishval, and Hughes snapping some sense into him after everything was all said and done before he, himself, began to understand that the system could work for him instead of against him and that there could be equivalent exchange between him and the Military, as he worked his way up through the ranks towards his goal of becoming Fuhrer.

Upon ending that phone call with Ed, he had been grateful that the boy understood what had taken him too long to understand and the lingering measure of guilt that he had felt for setting the boys down the path to becoming dogs of the Military had receded somewhat. Over the following months and several phone calls later, his guilt left him entirely, as what had started out as words of coercion with the aim of prompting the boys into joining the ranks of the State Alchemists, so that he might utilize their skills to suit his own agenda, had become words of inspiration and opportunity for the boys. Ed and Al's enthusiasm, combined with how seriously they were both taking the decision to become State Alchemists, caused him to realize that somewhere down the line the two had indeed chosen to become State Alchemists in their own right and his input had very little to do with the strength of their conviction or the future that they envisioned for themselves. With that revelation, he had taken to working double time to ensure that when the Elrics did become State Alchemists, they would both be placed under his command, where he could better protect them and could better assist them should they ever need his help and, in turn, their accomplishments would reflect upon him and become his accomplishments.

With the brothers now in Central and only months away from becoming State Alchemists, he could better focus on gaining the brothers' trust and, with time, getting them to see that their goal and his goal weren't all that different. He wanted to have a positive impact on the State of Amestris just as much as they did. While the two had yet to say how they planned on obtaining their goal, his way was by becoming Fuhrer. Only by standing at the top could he begin to change things for, and right the wrongs committed against, those standing below.

"Roy!" the shout of Maes Hughes, pulled Mustang out of his thoughts.

Looking to his friend, Mustang noted that he had led the Elrics across the station without even noticing that he had done so.

Hughes grinned at Mustang and waved from where he stood near the station entrance with the colonel's two most trusted subordinates, Riza Hawkeye and Jean Havoc.

"So are you going to introduce us or what?" Hughes asked expectantly, as Mustang drew up level with the group of officers and the Elric brothers drew to a stop a step behind him and slightly to his left.

"Lieutenant Colonel Hughes, 1st Lieutenant Hawkeye, 2nd Lieutenant Havoc; Ed and Al Elric." Mustang gestured to Ed and Al, upon stating their names, but left it up to the brothers to match the officers' names with the ranks sported by the three officers before them. He sighed, as Hughes and Havoc made to greet the boys with enthusiasm. They really didn't have time for pleasantries, as their meeting with General Halcrow was in an hour and they needed to get dinner sometime before then.

"We've a car outside, sir," Hawkeye informed, stepping over to her CO, after giving the Elric brothers a polite smile.

"We best get going then." Mustang sighed and turned to the Elrics, who were now being accosted by Hughes's photo collection. "Hughes, let them breath. While I'm sure they think your daughter is adorable, as well as whatever else you claim her to be, they hardly know you or her."

"But, Roy, I was showing them a photo of my beautiful wife. Ah, my Gracia!" Hughes exclaimed lovingly, hugging the photo to his chest, before abruptly turning serious, "They have yet to even see a photo of my darling Elicia. Which reminds me…" he pulled out his stack of photos and began riffling through the stack, looking for one in specific. Upon the entire stack suddenly being stolen away from him, he followed the path of the offending hand and glowered at Mustang.

"You can have them back in the car," Mustang said, as he pocketed the stack of photos. Looking to the brothers, he asked, "Do you like Xing?"

The two boys looked to each other, before turning back to Mustang and shrugging.

"We've never had it," Ed said by way of explanation.

"But brother will eat anything," Al added. "And I don't mind trying something new."

"Xing it is," Mustang said and motioned for the group to move outside to the awaiting car.

–

As Al stepped out into the slowly darkening evening and trailed after the group of military officers leading the way to the car, he stared wide-eyed at the illuminated visage of Central Command. The great, white military facility towered above the city with beams from spotlights reflecting off of its smooth surface, giving the impression of ultimate power and control. The image was daunting. Looking to his brother, who was walking along beside him, he could see that Ed felt the same.

"Equivalent exchange, Al," Ed reminded his younger brother with a murmur under his breath.

Al nodded. While the Military was powerful and they planned to submit themselves willingly to its power, they did not plan on being weak or helpless against the hold that the Military would gain over them once they became State Alchemists. With Mustang as their commanding officer, they would learn how to get the most out of their commitment to not only the Military, but to the people of Amestris as well. They might soon join the ranks of what most referred to as the dogs of the Military, but they weren't about to sell their souls for the title and benefits that came with being State Alchemists. Their relationship with the Military would exist on the basis of equivalent exchange. He and Ed had promised themselves as much.

Upon climbing into the military vehicle parked along the curb a few paces up the street from Central Station, Al settled his satchel between his feet, sitting down next to his brother on one of the two bench seats. Facing Mustang and Lieutenant Colonel Hughes, who were seated on the bench seat opposite him and Ed, he gave a nervous smile and secretly hoped that the colonel wouldn't return Hughes's photos until they had reached their destination and would be able to leave the confined space that they were currently trapped within. The lieutenant colonel seemed to be a bit manic about those of his photos … if first impressions were anything to go by.

As if reading Al's very thoughts, the bespectacled man turned to Mustang and held out his hand expectantly.

"So, Mustang," Ed cut in, before Mustang could so much as reach towards his pocket, "where will Al and I be staying?"

"Well," Mustang smirked, taking up the presented distraction and electing not to fulfill Hughes's nonverbal request, "considering how _little_ space you'd take up –"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SMALL THAT YOU COULD HOUSE HIM IN A MATCH BOX WITH ROOM TO SPARE?" Ed yelled, his face going red and his fists clenching on his knees, as he restrained himself from launching across the car and pummeling Mustang in retaliation for the insult.

"I don't know about a match box, Ed, but…"

_And they're off,_ Al thought, as he sighed and turned to look out the window, taking in the shops and people as they passed by. His brother was just so sensitive about his height. Even though he was a year younger than Ed, he and Ed were the same height with him being maybe the slightest bit taller than Ed. He found it amusing, as did Granny and Winry, but Ed didn't think that it was very funny at all. His brother had always been short and had always hated others looking down on him with their 'superior' height. Now that he and Ed were getting older, and even he was beginning to surpass Ed in the height department, Ed had taken to reacting in a choleric manner at even the vaguest suggestion that he was short or that someone considered him to be small.

"Watch it, Mustang. If you're ego gets any larger, you won't be able to get out of the car!"

"I'm not surprised that you intend to use the vents as your method for exiting the vehicle, Ed, but you do realize that cars have doors for a reason, don't you?"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SUCH A SMALL SPECK OF DUST THAT HE COULD CRAWL HIS WAY THROUGH THE VENTALATION SYSTEM OF A CAR AND COME OUT THE OTHER END AS IF HE HAD USED ONE OF THE DOORS INSTEAD?"

"So you do intend to use the vents," Mustang said smugly, looking highly amused and much more relaxed than he had been earlier.

Al groaned and returned to staring out the window, as Ed once more rose to the bait and the banter continued. This was even worse than when the two argued over the phone.

The ensuing trade of barbs and sarcastic remarks between his brother and Mustang lasted the remainder of drive to the Xing restaurant, where upon the car pulling over to the curb outside the restaurant, Mustang was finally forced to end his banter with Ed in order for him tell a now scowling and harassed looking Hughes what he wanted the man to order them for dinner.

"Not a very smooth diversion, punk, but not too bad either," Mustang said with a soft laugh, once the car door had slammed shut behind Hughes. As he visibly followed Hughes's movements into the restaurant out of the corner of his eye, he directed a conspiring smile at Ed. "Though," he pulled out Hughes's photos and held them up, "I really should give these back to him. I don't think that he's gone this long without at least one photo of Elicia on him since her birth four months ago."

Looking to the neat stack of photos, Al felt a twinge of guilt for previously hoping that Mustang would continue to withhold the photos from Hughes, as they were obviously very important to the man.

"He must be a great dad," Al said quietly, while examining the top photo, which depicted a baby girl dressed in a pink dress with a lavender bow tied prettily in her soft strands of light brown hair. "He certainly seems devoted at the very least. I suppose that counts for something."

"Don't sound so surprised, Al." Ed growled and looked out the window to his right, purposefully avoiding eye contact with both Al and Mustang. "Just because … Just because the man who provided the necessary biological data required for our births is a piece of shit and couldn't give a damn about us, doesn't mean that all dads are assholes by default."

Al scowled at his brother, but held his peace, as he knew that there would be no changing Ed's opinion of their father. He was plenty aware that as far as Ed was concerned, they were better off without Van Hohenheim in their lives and didn't need the man in the slightest. He couldn't very well disagree with Ed, as he didn't remember their father and couldn't say what the man was like. All he knew was that Hohenheim was an alchemist and that he and Ed looked a lot like him with their gold hair and eyes. Still, despites Ed's resentment and negative opinion of Hohenheim, he couldn't help but wonder what it would be like if their father was around, like a real father ought to be.

Upon Hughes returning with the Xing takeout several minutes later, the lieutenant colonel found himself entering a silent car.

Al barely acknowledged the man and Ed sat as still as stone, glaring out the window without really seeing the street beyond.

"I'll take that," Mustang said, as he relieved Hughes of the takeout, "and you take these."

"My lovely Gracia and darling Elicia!" Hughes eagerly snatched back his photos from Mustang and began to fawn over them.

As the car pulled away from the curb, Al noticed that the lieutenant colonel tactfully kept his rambling to Mustang only and allowed him and Ed their silence.

–

Upon reaching Central Command and leading the boys past security at the main doors with Hughes at his side and Hawkeye and Havoc bring up the rear of their group, Mustang was pleased to note that the Elrics no longer showed any visible signs of being upset and had apparently managed to master their emotions regarding their father during the duration of the drive from the Xing restaurant to Central Command. He'd be lying if he said that he wasn't impressed. Even with the knowledge that the two weren't exactly children, he had expected the sudden bout of pouting to last longer than it had.

As he had learned from a particular phone conversation that had left him temporarily partially deaf in his right ear, the Elrics' father was a very touchy subject for the two brothers. Had he known at the time that he had placed the call that asking about their father would send Ed off into a full volume rage about _'that family abandoning piece of shit'_, he might not have placed the call to begin with. The elder of the two Elrics held a serious case of resentment towards the man who was, despite of Ed's fierce refusal to acknowledge the relationship, the boys' father. He had never thought that a child could truly hate their own father the way that Ed seemed to hate his and Al's father.

However, the hearing loss that he had suffered aside, Mustang didn't regret what he had learned from the phone call after having finally gotten Ed to hand over the phone to a much calmer and more reasonable Al. The knowledge that the two were the sons of Van Hohenheim was bitter sweet and logical in the way that it made sense of their genius and made him feel as if he should have suspected as much all along. While Hohenheim's origins were unknown and the man's current movements and whereabouts were nearly impossible to trace, Van Hohenheim was well known throughout the State of Amestris for his extensive alchemical prose by any and all alchemists who were worth their salt. The Military even had a team under Brigadier General Grand dedicated to finding the man, so that the Military might covet Hohenheim's skill and power.

"_Never mention your father's name to anyone, not even if you believe your location is secure."_

This had become an additional rule to the preexisting rule that he had set about the boys never speaking of their attempt to use human transmutation to resurrect their mother.

While being the one to locate and recruit the sons of Van Hohenheim would bring him much notoriety, he knew that to reveal who the Elrics' father was would be to offer the brothers up on a gold platter to the Top Brass, who would not hesitate to utilize the sons of Van Hohenheim in whatever way they saw fit, all morality aside. It would be the brothers' doom. Not to mention, it would throw his own plans into disarray. If the Brass knew just who exact Ed and Al were, there would be no way for him to get them under his command, and as far as he was concerned, they were far more valuable to him under his command when comparing the long term benefits of keeping the identity of their father a secret verses the short term benefits of the notoriety that outing their true origins would bring him.

"This place is huge." Ed's complaint drew Mustang out of his thoughts on Hohenheim. "How do they expect people not to get lost? With all these intersecting corridors and stairs, it's like a labyrinth."

"You'll get used to it," Mustang assured without glancing back at Ed.

"Sir," Hawkeye said firmly from where she and Havoc were bringing up the back of the group. "They've not yet pass the certification exam to become State Alchemist. You ought not speak or treat them as if they already have. It is presumptuous, sir."

"You're worries are unfounded, Hawkeye," Mustang said in a monotone, as he was really getting tired of having to defend his position regarding the two brothers. He had been doing it all day, ever since Hughes and his team had found out about the boys being on the train. At bring the group to a halt outside the door to his private office less than a minute later, he shot a sly look at the brothers, while unlocking the oak door. "I'm not being presumptuous, now am I, boys?"

Ed snorted, as Al snickered.

"I told you before, bastard, we're not going to further inflate your ego for you no matter how much you beg," Ed said, crossing his arms stubbornly over his chest.

"Beside, Colonel," Al said, grinning, "it's not like you _actually_ need us to tell you that we're going to pass. It is a given, after all."

"And who exactly is it that has the overinflated ego?" Mustang asked, pointedly looking from one Elric to the other before entering his office.

"It isn't egotism, if it's the truth," Ed stated in a matter of fact manner and followed Mustang into the office with the rest of their group.

"What makes you so sure you're going to pass?" Havoc asked with interest, as he set the takeout on the coffee table that rested between the two couches in Mustang's private office.

Upon the Elrics looking to him, Mustang gave the two the go head to show off their unique style of alchemy. "They can be trusted to keep this to themselves. Just nothing major, all right? I like my office the way it is."

As Ed and Al nodded and, after taking a moment to discuss what they should do, set about transmuting small, detailed figurines from the surface wood of the coffee table, Mustang settled himself on the corner of the couch nearest him, watching the display with intrigue as well as watching the stunned reactions of his comrades with satisfaction. Though the transmutations were minuscule and not at all very showy, let alone even touched on the brothers' actual skill level, the fact that the two were performing the transmutations with a mere clap of their hands and not one transmutation circle in sight was enough to cause Havoc's jaw to drop and his customary, unlit cigarette to slip from his lips, while the phenomenon caused Hawkeye's eyes to widen rather comically in an expression that was rare to see on her face and Hughes to stare at the figurines, looking completely flabbergasted.

If Mustang had actually had any doubts about the Elrics passing the upcoming State Alchemist Certification Exam, he most definitely didn't have any doubts any longer. It was clear to him that as long as the boys got through the written part and the interview, the practical portion of the exam would make them both shoe-ins to each being granted the title of State Alchemist. Watching the brothers command the flow of alchemy so easily and so uniquely, only served to resolve him even further in his determination to force Halcrow's compliance in regards to boys taking the State Alchemist Certification Exam and being place under his command, as it was only Halcrow standing between the boys and their very promising future.


	6. Inquiries and Satisfaction

**Chapter 6: Inquiries and Satisfaction**

"It wasn't like Bald and I were having a friendly chat, Mustang," Ed said exasperatedly and shot a glare at said dark haired man, as he set aside his now empty container of noodles on the recently regenerated surface of the coffee table before him and relaxed back into the comfortable leather couch that he and Al were sitting on. "He got as far as calling me a brat, before Al and I tagged teamed him."

"What about the others?" Lieutenant Colonel Hughes asked, looking up from his own container of noodles to the Elric brothers, who were seated on the couch opposite him and Mustang. "Did they say anything about future plans that the Eastern Liberation Front might have or perhaps mention other organizations that they are working with?"

"Incapacitate and ask questions later, Lieutenant Colonel." Al shrugged apologetically with his elbows resting forward on his knees and a container of sweet, sticky chicken in one hand and chopsticks in the other. "We didn't exactly give them time to say much of anything. If we had, we probably wouldn't have ended up with only a few bruises and a couple of scrapes for our trouble. They weren't messing around. They would have shot us, Halcrow, and the other passengers with zero regard for the lives that they'd be taking."

"I guess that we'll just have to wait and see what the interrogations turn up." Hughes frowned. "If they uphold to the same code as Petro, though, we probably won't get much of anything out of them."

"It doesn't really matter if we do or not. It's not like shutting down the Eastern Liberation Front would do any good," Mustang said, as he stood up from where he had been sitting beside Hughes and stretched. Picking up his jacket from the back of the couch, where he had set it before sitting down to eat, he continued, "The Eastern Liberation Front is only one faction among the many factions that are stirring the unrest in the East. Shutting them down would only cause a new faction with a new base and figurehead that we know nothing about to rally in its place. The Brass will just be happy that we've captured a handful of the extremists."

"Is the East really that unstable?" Ed asked, his brow furrowing with concern and confusion. He and Al hadn't heard about any unrest within their home province, at least not since Ishval. As far as they were aware there were border skirmishes with Aerugo and Creta, but the main threat to Amestris came from Drachma, despite them having a peace treaty with the Drachmans and the Briggs mountains making invasion difficult.

"The war might be over, Ed," Mustang said seriously, while putting on his jacket and buttoning it closed over the white button-up shirt that he wore underneath, "but the people of the East have not yet forgotten the blood that soaked their fields and the streets of their villages. There is still a very strong opposition to the Military throughout the region. While the southern lands of the East District are more subdued, having been closest to the extermination of Ishval, the rest of the East is not as settled. We've not yet had any uprisings or anything else to that extreme, but there have been minor attacks on government facilities and military officials by factions like the Eastern Liberation Front. It's more bothersome in that it's annoying to have to keep security so tight in the East than it is truly concerning that the region might break out into war once more."

"Don't you have a meeting to be getting to?" Hughes asked pointedly.

From the look that Hughes was shooting at Mustang, Ed got the impression that the man didn't approve of Mustang being so candid with him and Al, or perhaps it was just an extension of the man's disapproval of him and Al coming to Central to become State Alchemists at what he was fairly certain the man believed to be on purely Mustang's behest. He had noticed that, when the lieutenant colonel wasn't fawning over his photos of his wife and daughter or wasn't otherwise distracted with his duties as a military officer, the man was either scowling or glaring at Mustang as a parent might scowl or glare at a child who was doing something that they ought not be doing and knew that they shouldn't be doing it. Mustang – in pure Mustang fashion, all aloof and arrogant – pretended not to notice the looks and carried on, as if Hughes wasn't sending silent accusations at him at every given opportunity.

"We do," Mustang said smoothly, meeting Hughes's narrowed eyes with a dispassionate stare. "If you'd have a copy of Ed and Al's witness statements brought to Hawkeye before you head home for the night, I'd appreciate it."

Hughes set his finished container of noodles on the coffee table and stood. "Once I have it typed, I'll see to it that your office ends up with a copy."

Mustang stared at Hughes a moment longer, as if daring the man to say what was really on his mind, before turning to Ed and Al. "We better get going."

By mutual consensus, the two military officers and Ed and Al all left Mustang's office together after having quickly cleaned up their mess from the takeout. Out in the hall, Hughes went one way, while Ed and Al followed Mustang in the opposite direction.

–

2nd Lieutenant Jean Havoc sat up straight from his previous hunched over position and rubbed the back of his neck, while glowering around the unlit cigarette in his mouth and down at the fifth file of barely legible hospital forms requesting approval and acknowledgment of treatment for State Prisoner [X] that he had been forced to read over and sign off on within the last half hour.

"This situation with Halcrow and the Eastern Liberation Front sure has caused a lot of paperwork," he grumbled and looked up and across his desk to 1st Lieutenant Hawkeye, who was buried in a pile of paperwork at her own desk. While he silently hoped that she might take pity on them both and let them go home, he knew it wasn't likely. The colonel had been insistent that they wrap things up regarding Petro's capture and the hostage situation on the LE 04840 as quickly and efficiently as possible now that they had returned to Central Command.

Hawkeye looked up from the file she was reading and glared at the blond haired man, her narrowed eyes clearly showing what she thought about the interruption. "You should be thankful, Lieutenant, that only Halcrow and one of the officers on security detail were shot, or we'd have even more paperwork to deal with."

Havoc groaned at the thought. "You know, this is why I don't have a girlfriend. If the colonel would stop making us do his paperwork for him and work overtime whenever it suits him, I might actually be able to keep a woman interested. If he hadn't made us pull all those late nights just to capture Petro, Cynthia and I would still be dating. In fact, we might have even had a date set for tonight … a nice romantic dinner, perhaps we'd go to a show afterwards, and then back to h–"

"I thought her name was Kathrine," Hawkeye said offhandedly, as she returned her attention to the form in front of her. "Cynthia was the one who broke up with you because you accidentally stepped on her cat and fractured its paw."

Havoc scowled, trying to remember if it was a girl named Kathrine or a girl named Cynthia that he had recently gotten dumped by.

"Or was Sophia the one with the cat and Cynthia the one that broke up with you for sneezing in her face after you went through the trouble of bringing her flowers?" Hawkeye continued, her eyes scanning avidly over the report that she was reading.

Before Havoc could sputter an indignant response to the 1st lieutenant's inquiry, he was saved from having to embarrass himself, as well as having to further endure his dismal love life being dragged through the mud, by the office door opening rather unceremoniously.

"Lieutenants!" Lieutenant Colonel Hughes greeted jovially, as he crossed the office over to where Hawkeye and Havoc were buried beneath paperwork.

"Lieutenant Colonel Hughes." Hawkeye acknowledged the bespectacled man upon signing off on the report that she had been looking over. "Is there something we can do for you, sir?"

"Yes, actually, there is." Hughes held up a stack of hand written notes on restaurant napkins. "I need these typed. They're the Elric brothers' witness statements."

"Sir?" Havoc goggled. The man couldn't be serious. He wasn't even their commanding officer! Not to mention, Mustang had already stuck them with enough work to last them the week and demanded that it be done by the morning.

"Might I ask why you do not ask one of the members of your staff in the Intelligence Division to type them up for you, sir?" Hawkeye eyed the napkins with thin lipped displeasure.

"Well, you see," Hughes began with a huff, "Roy requested that I give you a copy of these before I went home. I'd have given them to my own staff to type up, but I sent all my guys home before leaving the train station. So, it's either I type them up myself, make a copy of them, and then deliver the copy to you, which you then have to go over and sign off on anyways … or I just give you these and you can type them up for Roy. Of course," he added hastily, as Hawkeye's eyes narrowed in annoyance, "you wouldn't have to worry about typing up a copy for my office. I can have one of my staff type up a clean copy for our records tomorrow morning."

"I'll see to it that the colonel gets a typed copy of these, sir," Hawkeye relented with a sigh and added the scribbled on napkins to her pile of paperwork.

"Great!" Hughes smiled brightly. Looking back and forth between the two lieutenants, however, his smile slid off his face and he abruptly became very serious. "In the interest of Roy's best interests … before today, did Roy mention the Elrics to either of you?"

"No, sir," Havoc answered when Hawkeye didn't say anything. He'd been just as surprised as everyone else to learn that Mustang was planning to trust two preteens to save Halcrow and counter whatever plans the Blue Squad might have had for the train. At first he had been certain that his CO had been joking, but when Mustang had confirmed that he was indeed being serious, he hadn't really known what to think. He still didn't know what to think, even with the knowledge that the brothers had successfully saved the train and having witnessed the boys' alchemy. He could understand Mustang's interest in the two, but he couldn't help but question their age and, in turn, question just where exactly Mustang had found the two, how much contact Mustang had actually had with them, and what exactly Mustang thought he was doing bring them into the Military to become State Alchemist when they were, for all intents and purposes, nothing but a couple of kids. "The first time that I know of him even mentioning them or having any sort of contact with them was today. Though, it seems he knows them well. The one with the braid called him a bastard, after all, and he didn't even react."

"I noticed." Hughes grimaced pensively and stroked his beard. "I imagine you heard them in the car as well. He's told me that he's known them for a year, yet I cannot find a single record of contact between them, let alone determine how or where they met."

"Sir," Hawkeye said stiffly, drawing the attention of both Havoc and Hughes. Looking directly up at Hughes, her voice took on a stern note that was grave and unyielding, "Sir, the Elrics' past is not a past that ought to be explored. I suggest you look no further into their lives prior to today."

"What do you know?" Hughes asked, now eying the woman lieutenant suspiciously.

"Stop looking, sir," Hawkeye said firmly, her amber gaze unwavering from Hughes's suspicious, hazel one. "That is what I know."

Hughes returned Hawkeye's gaze for an extended moment before he sighed and let his eyes fall closed. "Just tell me one thing, Lieutenant," he said, as he opened his eyes once more and looked down at Hawkeye. "Is Roy capable of handling whatever this is that he has got going on with the Elrics? While those two boys are clearly bright, we both know Roy well enough to know that their intellect would not be enough of a reason for him bring them into the Military so young. He's taking a huge risk."

"All three are alchemist, sir," Hawkeye said hesitantly. "We cannot understand their reasoning in this. The only guarantee that we have is that what is given by one side will be returned in full by the other. It is their way of life. We must trust that they know what they are doing, even if we do not like the idea of those boys becoming State Alchemists."

Havoc shook his head. It was too easy to think of the colonel as just a regular guy when the man wasn't using his flames. It was easy to forget that beneath the front of laziness and nonchalance that Mustang presented to the world was a highly skilled alchemist. It wasn't until the man got around other alchemists and weird shit was said and done that they were ever reminded that there was a part of Mustang that they, as normal human beings, would never have a hope of understanding. If the Elric brothers really did become State Alchemists and were placed under the colonel's command, normalcy was soon to become a rare commodity.

–

Ed forced himself to breathe calmly, as Mustang brought him and Al to a stop outside an oak door that bore the name plate: _Major General Halcrow_ below the room number. It was not that he was nervous. No, he most definitely wasn't nervous. His left palm was not sweaty and his heart was not beating irregularly, definitely not. He was fine, everything was fine. General Halcrow would speak with them, they'd tell the man what he wanted to here, the man would agree to let him and Al take the State Alchemist Certification Exam, and this tiresome day would finally be over. Piece of cake!

"Enter," was the response from behind the door, upon Mustang giving the wood two decisive raps.

As he followed Mustang into Halcrow's office, Ed took note of how the atmosphere differed from Mustang's office. Mustang's office had been rather laid-back. The man's desk had rested at the far end near the windows with the two facing couches and the coffee table between it and the door of his office. There had also been a few bookcases and a couple filing cabinets lined against the walls, but they had hardly demanded a person's attention and hadn't been at all imposing. Halcrow's office on the other hand was the complete opposite of Mustang's office. It was uptight. The general had his desk sitting roughly in the center of the room and was currently sitting in a rather ostentatious chair behind it. There were two other armchairs in the room, which were angled towards each other with an end table in between them along the left wall and positioned close to the door. The rest of the walls were lined with shelves (some filled with books, others filled with awards and souvenirs from one place or another) and massive filing cabinets. It was a work space, where Mustang's office seemed more like a place to go to retreat from work. Knowing Mustang, though, that was probably exactly what the bastard used his office for. Ed could just picture Mustang napping on one of those couches of his when the man should actually be doing his work.

Upon Mustang drawing up a few steps away Halcrow's desk and snapping a salute, Ed hung back a few paces with Al and attempted his best to look respectful. They weren't State Alchemists yet, so it wasn't required for them to present themselves as if they were and would probably be seen as presumptuous if they did.

"Colonel Mustang reporting in," Mustang said, not letting his salute or stance waiver even the slightest bit, as Halcrow's eyes slid over him with unmasked disdain. "As requested, I have brought Edward and Alphonse Elric with me, sir."

"At ease," Halcrow said to Mustang, as he leaned back in his chair. Motioning for Ed and Al to step forward, he asked, "Do you boys understand why you are here?"

"Yes, sir," Ed said, meeting Halcrow's hard gaze without blinking. "We are here to confirm that our desire to become State Alchemists is not a byproduct of coercion and that we fully understand the undertaking of becoming State Alchemists."

"Roy Mustang recruited you." Halcrow shot a brief look at Mustang before he returned his focus to the brothers. "Yes or no?"

"Yes, sir," Ed and Al answered together.

"How did you view the State Alchemists prior to Colonel Mustang's attempt to recruit you?" Halcrow asked, looking as if he already knew what their answer would be and planned to make short work of their meeting by pounce on their words the moment that they spoke them.

"We viewed them with indifference, sir," Ed lied, knowing that the truth would only give Halcrow what the man metaphorically needed to hang them, yet saying that he and Al had always dreamt of becoming State Alchemists would be an all too obvious lie, especially considering that they came from the East District.

"Please elaborate," Halcrow request, no longer looking so sure of himself and instead appearing a bit miffed.

"As alchemist ourselves, sir, we understand what alchemy is and how it can be used," Al said promptly, before Ed could elaborate on the statement of their indifference and no doubt botch the lie. "We've known from the time that we were small that State Alchemists are alchemists commissioned by the Military. We've also known from the time that we were small that men of the Military are given their orders and must follow through with their orders for the betterment of the State of Amestris. While we are hardly reverent of what the State Alchemists did in Ishval, we've not held their actions against them, nor will we ever fear alchemy, like many in our district now do. The best way to describe our view of State Alchemists prior to Colonel Mustang speaking with us about becoming State Alchemists ourselves is indifference."

"You never considered becoming State Alchemist prior to Colonel Mustang speaking with you?" Halcrow asked, once more looking as if he had found something that he might be able to use.

"No, sir," Ed and Al answered truthfully.

"What did Colonel Mustang say to you to make you want to become State Alchemists?" Halcrow raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

Ed smirked at the question. The word _make_ stood out to him with clear intent to trip him and Al up. While it had been voiced casually, it implied force or coercion on Mustang's part. "Al and I have decided to become State Alchemists for the research benefits, sir, as well as for the chance to travel and meet new people, as we carry out the duties to the State. It isn't so much _what_ Colonel Mustang has said to us that has brought about our decision, as it is the fact that becoming State Alchemists aligns with what we want for ourselves, now and in our future."

–

Mustang slowly let out the breath that he had been holding. Ed's answer was good, surprising good. From the look on Halcrow's face, the general found it to be just as good as he did. There was nothing that implicated him in coercing, let alone forcing the Elrics into wanting to become State Alchemists. The way Ed talked, it was as if the idea to become State Alchemists had been the brothers' idea from the very start and that he just so happened to have been the one to provide them with the information on State Alchemists that allowed them to realize that becoming State Alchemists was exactly what they wanted.

_So far, so good,_ Mustang thought to himself, feeling some of the worry that he had felt about the meeting begin to leave him.

As long as Ed and Al remained sharp and didn't allow Halcrow to catch them out, he was confident that he would be able outmaneuver Halcrow and force the man into compliance within the hour.

_Just keep it up, boys,_ Mustang encouraged silently, as Halcrow barked off his next question, while looking exceedingly frustrated that he wasn't getting what he needed from the two blond haired youths.

–

"So war and bloodshed are part of what you want for yourselves, now and in your future?"

Al nearly started at the harshness of the question, but held strong. He and Ed had suffered worse treatment during their time with Teacher, after all.

"It is equivalent exchange, sir," Al heard Ed say in a forced tone of respect from where his brother stood straight-backed and proper beside him. "We accept that to obtain the privileges granted to State Alchemists, we must also fulfill certain duties that we may not like. We do not want war and bloodshed as part of lives, not now or in the future, but we will allow it to become a part of our lives regardless. We will do what our obligation to the Military dictates."

"You're prepared kill?" Halcrow demanded, looking from one Elric to the other with doubt.

"When ordered to, or when it is required to fulfill an order, or when it is necessary to save innocent lives, I will kill," Ed said firmly. The resolve in his words was palpable and incontestable. "I'll give you my word on that, sir."

"As will I, sir," Al said, conjuring a resolve to match his brother's resolve. He and Ed had already talked about killing. In fact, they had discussed it many times, between themselves and with Mustang. Killing was not something that they wanted to do, but when the time came and they were forced into a situation that left them no other option, they would kill. They would have to.

"_Sometimes, the death of the enemy is required before you can save the lives of those you've dedicated yourself to protecting," Mustang had explained detachedly over the phone. "Then there are other times, when the choice to kill is completely taken out of your hands and it becomes an instinctual response to the kill or be killed scenario that you've suddenly found yourself in. I won't lie. It's never a pleasant thing to do, but there is no doubt that sometimes it is necessary and unavoidable. It's an eventuality that you need to prepare yourselves for."_

They would do what had to be done, what was necessary. There would be no avoiding it with the path that they had chosen for their future. Try as they might to never take a life, the day would one day come. Neither he nor Ed looked forward to it, but they had accepted its inevitability.

"You understand that as State Alchemists, you'll be granted the rank of major?" Halcrow's question brought Al back out of his thoughts.

"Yes, sir," Al answered along with Ed. This too was something that he and Ed had discussed.

–

Mustang stood still and silent, as Halcrow continued to question the Elrics. More than once, Halcrow reverted back to questioning the brothers' reasoning for wanting to become State Alchemist. At least on three separate occasions, the general asked the two about the lengths of which they were willing to go to in their duties to the State of Amestris as State Alchemists. Question after question about the responsibilities and behavioral conduct of State Alchemists within the Military were inserted in between. As the questions got deeper into military ranks and procedure, Mustang was glad to have sent the boys the information that they had requested, as Ed and Al answered each question sufficiently and without falter.

By the time Halcrow finally told the brothers to wait out in the hall, forty stressful, tension filled minutes had passed.

"You've been prepping them," Halcrow observed with displeasure, as his chestnut eyes latched onto Mustang.

"They've been prepping themselves, sir," Mustang answered truthfully, as he steadily met Halcrow's accusatory glare. "I did nothing but provide the information that they requested."

Halcrow regarded Mustang a moment longer, before grunting. "What do you want, Mustang?"

"I want for them to be allowed to sit the upcoming State A–" Mustang began, but was cut off by Halcrow.

"No, that is what those boys want and what they intend to receive in return for risking their lives for my family and the passengers on that train." Halcrow growled. "Now, what is it that _you_ want, Colonel Roy Mustang?" At Mustang's startled look in response to being called out on his intentions, Halcrow gritted his teeth. "Don't look so surprised. I've had the unfortunate pleasure of having you under my command for a year and half now. I know how you operate."

"You will allow them to sit the Exam?" Mustang asked, seeking confirmation, before he pressed towards his own objective. He wanted Halcrow's guarantee, as everything would be for not, if the boys didn't even get to sit the State Alchemist Certification Exam.

"You're not one to bet on a losing horse, and they've made it quite clear that they know and understand what it is that they want." Halcrow's brow furrowed with consternation. "Yet they're children, Mustang. How can children speak and act as they do? How can children incapacitate a dozen grown men with guns and come out of it with nothing but a few bruises and a couple of flesh wounds? How can they stand in this office without an ounce of visible hesitation or fear and ask to be allowed to become State Alchemists when it is plain to see that they do in fact comprehend all that the position entails? It isn't right. It isn't normal. Do they not have parents to wonder where they are?"

"No, sir, they don't," Mustang answered, his dark eyes scanning over Halcrow's pensive form with uncertainty. He wasn't quite sure what to make of Halcrow's conflict. He had never seen the man behave in such a manner. "The Elrics' mother died many years ago, and their father left them long before then. They've been on their own for quite some time."

"I'll put their names down for the Exam," Halcrow confirmed, while still looking troubled by the decision.

"They'll be grateful, sir," Mustang assured.

"And you?" Halcrow asked brusquely, looking up at Mustang warily. "What is your silence now going to cost me?"

"Your own silence." Mustang smirked at Halcrow's understanding of the true terms that were on the table. He had thought for certain that he'd have to spell it out for the man. It was good that he didn't have to, as he hadn't been looking forward to a repeat of the last time that he and Halcrow had engaged in conversation behind the closed door of the man's office. "I want both Elrics under my direct command. I expect that you'll not protest this when the time comes."

"You'd have to blackmail every general in the Military for that to happen!" Halcrow snapped off angrily, while once more glaring at Mustang, no doubt upset about the rehashing of their previous terms, as well as pissed off about being denied the opportunity to covet one of the brothers for himself.

Mustang said nothing to the accusation, not confirming or denying the extent of his machinations. In reality, though, the only generals that he had to worry about were the ones interested in the State Alchemists. The rest couldn't care less whose command the newest State Alchemists ended up under, as long as none ended up under their command. Though it had taken him the last twelve months, he now had every general who would bid for one of the brothers firmly in his debt.

"Like I said, Mustang, you're a real piece of work," Halcrow said with contempt for the man standing before him, not needing a verbal answer from Mustang to confirm his suspicions. "You better hope that your ambitions don't get you killed one of these days."

"Noted, sir," Mustang said blandly. The warning was nothing new between them. In fact, some days, he was certain that Halcrow would kill him himself, if the man thought that he could get away with it.

"I suggest you get out my sight, Mustang," Halcrow narrowed his eyes threatening, "before I _do _find a way to write you up for insubordination."

Not one to refuse a general's dismissal, especially a dismissal coming from Halcrow, Mustang snapped off a salute and silently retreated from the man's office. Though Halcrow hadn't outright said that he wouldn't oppose his claim to the Elric brothers, the man hadn't truly needed to say that he wouldn't. It was a given with what was at stake for Halcrow if the man did not comply. Satisfaction washed through Mustang upon him stepping out into the hall outside Halcrow's office and finding both Elrics waiting anxiously. He had what they needed and now all he had to do was not let Halcrow get the upper hand before the boys were officially placed under his command.


	7. The Row House on the River

**Chapter 7: The Row House on the River**

Retired General Dwight Elias, the Nature Alchemist, was a tall, wiry looking man with a receding hairline and intelligent, blue eyes hidden behind thick, square rimmed glasses. If anything, Al would describe the old general as frail. When General Elias had answered the door of his riverside row house, opening the interior warmth to the crisp morning air not yet dispelled by the rising sun, the man had been wrapped in a thick bathrobe with house shoes warming his feet and had had an expensive, dark wood cane in his gnarled right hand. The man's posture had been hunched with him leaning heavily on his cane and his face had been significantly pale with his features sunken and tired looking. Upon the general setting eyes on Mustang, however, the man's vacant, listless expression had quickly formed into a lively smile and the man had eagerly welcomed them into his home, seeming to stand a little bit straighter and to gain a twinge of color to his face.

From what Al had seen of the entrance hall and the sitting room that he, Ed, and Mustang had been escorted to, General Elias was an eccentric man of fine tastes. Al had never set foot within such a fanciful building before. Upon looking up at the vaulted ceiling of the entrance hall, he had been entranced by the extravagant formation and peculiar adornments of the golden chandelier tethered overhead. He had been similarly entranced by the marble fireplace that he now sat a few feet away from. It too was formed with fine detail and extravagance, an extravagance that seemed to reflect from the crackling fire within and spread across the glossy wood floors of the home and out into the whole of the sitting room, assisting in lighting the ornate rug beneath their feet and the expert craftsmanship of the spindle legged tables and tufted backed sofas and armchairs strategically placed before the fireplace itself.

"Please forgive us for calling so early, sir."

Mustang's request, which doubled as an apology, drew Al's attention back to the current matter at hand. Sitting upon the sofa nearest the fire with Ed at his side, Al turned away from the fireplace to face Mustang and General Elias, who were sitting upon a pair of armchairs across from him and Ed with a spindle legged end table that had a gas lamp set upon it in between the two men.

General Elias waved away Mustang's concern, looking content and not at all bothered that it was so early in the morning. "From the looks of the three of you, I would say that is quite late, rather than early."

"So it is, sir." Mustang sighed and his eyes drooped ever so slightly, as he relaxed further into the armchair that he was sitting in and allowed himself to become more comfortable.

"Do you have to work today?" General Elias inquired, looking sympathetic.

"I have to be back at 09:00," Mustang confirmed.

"Then leave things here to me and go get yourself some rest." General Elias's firm tone suggested that the matter was not up for debate. As the general made to get up from his chair, which he had only just sat down in, he said, "Come, Colonel, I'll see you out."

As the two men left the room and were headed towards the front door of the house, Al turned in his seat and looked to his brother.

"He seems all right," Ed said, reading the question in Al's eyes. "At any rate, Mustang doesn't seem to have any problem with leaving us here."

Al glanced back to the doorway that Mustang and General Elias had disappeared through and nodded. Mustang hadn't even hesitated. Not to mention, it was Mustang's idea to bring them here in the first place. They were to spend the next three months studying for the State Alchemist Certification Exam under General Elias's tutelage, as Mustang didn't have the time or the in-home resources to provide the same service himself. _Plus a dozen other reason for why it would be a bad idea for us to stay with him,_ Al thought, while thinking of the amicable animosity between Ed and the colonel, the colonel's supposed nightlife, and the fact that the colonel would soon be their commanding officer. Yes, there were many good reasons for why it would be a bad idea for them to stay with Mustang.

"What sort of favor do you think Mustang did for General Elias in order for us to be allowed to stay here?" Ed asked quietly, clearly wishing for only Al to hear him.

"I don't know," Al said, turning back to Ed. "Maybe Mustang didn't have to do anything and General Elias is just being nice."

"Don't be naïve, Al." Ed scoffed. "That old general is getting something out of this, or he wouldn't do it."

"If that's so, brother, we're getting more and more indebted to the colonel by the minute." Al frowned at the thought.

As he and Ed very well knew, they had already been greatly indebted to Mustang before they had even come to Central. Though Mustang had never brought it up or even hinted at it, they had learned from Granny and Winry that Mustang was the one who had saved their lives the night that they had committed the forbidden. If Mustang hadn't been there and hadn't been so quick to act, they both would have bled to death before help would have ever reached them. It was a debt that neither he nor Ed were entirely sure how or when they'd be able to repay. The only thing that they could do at the moment was to try to keep the equivalent exchange between them and the colonel from becoming further off balanced and to wait for a day when they could save the colonel's life, as the colonel had saved theirs.

Even now, sitting in General Elias's sitting room and only three months shy from taking the State Alchemist Certification Exam, Al wondered if Ed's determination to go through with becoming State Alchemists had anything to do with their debt to Mustang. He knew that a small part of his own reasoning for wanting to become a State Alchemist was influenced by their debt to the colonel, yet a larger part of him really did hope that, by becoming State Alchemists and using the resources provided by the Military, they could find a way to help people in a way that they wouldn't have been able to had they stayed in Resembool. Nonetheless, his greater ambition aside, he knew that the only way that he and Ed would ever be able to repay Mustang for what he had done for them that night was be to be in close contact with the man. Being State Alchemists under the colonel's command seemed like a very good position to be in for them to one day repay their debt.

"Damn that Mustang," Ed said through clenched teeth, his hands fisting on his knees. "At this rate, we'll end up owing the bastard for the rest of our lives."

"Brother, you really should stop calling him that," Al said exasperatedly. "He's going to be our commanding officer soon."

Ed huffed, pretending to not have heard Al. "I suppose that we'll just have to work hard to get him promoted for all his trouble. Getting promoted is the only reason why he is even bothering with us after all."

Al shook his head at his idiot brother. While he too knew without doubt that the colonel was hoping to gain notoriety by having them under his command, he had a feeling that there was more to it than that. He wasn't sure about it, but he got the feeling that he and Ed were more important to the colonel than them just being a couple of kids whose talents in alchemy the man planned to use in order to climb up the ranks. Mustang was putting in far too much effort if that was all that the man wanted from them. He couldn't even count the number of times that the man had called them over the last year just to check up on them. On top of that, the man had never been short on words of advice and had been, for the most part, very honest with them when answering their many questions; always speaking to them as growing adults rather than the kids that most people still perceived them to be. Never once had Al got the impression that Mustang viewed him and Ed as objects to possess or covet for the man's own gain in the way that Mustang claimed that a majority of the higher ranking officers in the Military viewed the State Alchemists.

Dogs of the Military, human weapons: these were but a few names that were applied to State Alchemists, names that made them into objects and possessions rather than thinking and feeling human beings. They were the names that revealed the darker side of being a State Alchemist. In Al's opinion, they were also names that revealed the Military's own fear of the power that it possessed in the State Alchemists. The State Alchemists were demoralized by being referred to as something that 'normal' humans could be considered to be above. Dogs: creatures expected to accept the leash and collar tying them to thier master, creatures expected to be wholly loyal and obedient to the ones who fed and provided for them; weapons: unthinking and unfeeling objects forged by human hands to be used for the human purpose of inflicting bodily harm or physical damage upon someone or something, objects that are designed to be discard or set aside when they become broken or are no longer of any use to their owner.

Maybe it was because Mustang was a State Alchemist himself and understood what is it was to be thought of as something less than human that the man didn't treat him and Ed in such a way. Al didn't know and couldn't really say. The only thing that Al did know was that his and Ed's best interests, or at least their overall wellbeing and what they wanted for themselves now and in their future, seemed to be of great interest to Mustang. The man was coveting them, but not as mere objects to be put to his own use.

"Brother, the colonel isn't only bothering with us because he wants to get promoted," Al said, while wondering if Ed was really so blind or if, perhaps, it was because Ed wasn't so blind that his brother continued to refuse to trust the colonel and was so antagonistic towards the man.

"Of course not," Ed bit out, his intent behind the words not entirely clear.

"Brother, he may have an agenda, but he's not a bad man," Al tried to reason and not for the first time.

"Doesn't make him any less of a bastard either way, Al," Ed said stubbornly.

A chuckle from the doorway of the sitting room just then caused the two brothers to look in its direction. As General Elias reentered the room, leaning on his cane for support, Al shift uncomfortably in his seat at having been caught arguing with Ed.

"A frustrating man Colonel Mustang most definitely is, but he is also a very good ally to have," General Elias said knowingly, while his intelligent eyes roamed perceptively over the two boys now in his care. He paused in his steps near the chair that he had been sitting before he had gone to show Mustang out. "You boys are lucky that he's taken such an interest in you."

"Why's that?" Ed asked, looking at the elderly man with guarded eyes.

General Elias smiled enigmatically, causing the wrinkles around his mouth and eyes to crinkle. "Now what fun would it be if I told you? You're smart boys. I'm sure you'll figure it out in your own time."

"Do you know the colonel well then, sir?" Al asked curiously

"I would not say that I know him as anything more than an acquaintance, but a good friend of mine, General Grumman, knows him well enough for the both of us," General Elias said softly. "Mustang has spent a majority of his career under Grumman at Eastern Command. It was only Halcrow's gain in standing among the Top Brass a year and a half ago that allowed him to pull Mustang under his command here in Central when there was talk of transferring Mustang out of the East. Though," General Elias gave an amused laugh, "I do believe Halcrow has grown to regret his bid for the Flame Alchemist. As rumor has it, Mustang can be a real pain in the ass when he wants to be."

Ed smirked and Al grinned. As they both knew, Mustang made it a point to be a pain in the ass. It was the man's way of keeping the balance of equivalent exchange between him and the Military. They'd soon be learning how to do the same. Unfortunately for Mustang, they were going to be his pains in the ass.

"Ah, young men of a like mind," General Elias observed and once more looked over the two brothers with perceptive eyes. "I imagine that you boys are hungry and could do with some rest, before you begin your studies."

"Yes, sir," Al said, while Ed nodded.

"Well, come along then." General Elias beckoned the brothers to get up and follow him. "I'll show you to the kitchen. Madam Martha will have us something to eat and then I'll give you a tour of the house and get you settled in your rooms."

Obediently, Ed and Al grabbed up their satchels and followed General Elias out of the sitting room.

–

Madam Martha turned out to be a short, plump woman with a kind face and an inviting persona. She wore her graying hair up in a clip with her bangs and a few loose curls falling about her face. Her slightly slanted, dark chestnut eyes lit up brightly, upon the entrance of General Elias, and seemed to grow even brighter at the sight of Ed and Al following the old general into the kitchen.

"Good morning, my dear," General Elias greeted warmly, while gesturing for the boys to set their things down on the empty bench near the door.

"Good morning, Dwight," Madam Martha greeted in return, as she quickly dusted off her floury hands on the striped apron that she wore over her day clothes and set the batter she had been mixing near the stove, where a buttered baking pan sat on an unlit burner and ground sausage was sizzling in a pan on a separate burner. Turning back and peering at Ed and Al, she smiled brilliantly. "So these are the young gentlemen you've been telling me about?"

"Yes," General Elias said and beckoned the boys over to where he and Madam Martha were standing. "These are Edward and Alphonse Elric." The general indicated to the brothers in turn. "Boys, this is Madam Martha. She comes during the day to take care of my meals and to see to the house."

"Hello, ma'am," Ed said and returned the smile that she directed at him.

Al returned the woman's smile as well and gave a greeting of his own.

"It's good to finally meet you boys," Madam Martha said warmly. "Dwight has been talking of your visit for months now. It's nice to have faces to go along with the names."

"Is there coffee, my dear?" General Elias asked with avid interest.

"It's just finished perking." Madam Martha nodded to the brass coffee maker further down the counter, where it rested near the icebox and a mechanical toaster.

"Edward, Alphonse, would you like some?" General Elias offered back over his shoulder, as he headed over to the coffee maker.

"Yes, please," Al said, while Ed nodded and tried not to yawn. Coffee most definitely sounded good right about then.

It didn't take long for General Elias to sit Ed and Al down at the small table in the kitchen with each of them cupping a steaming hot mug of coffee in their hands. Though neither Ed nor Al had drank much coffee before in their lives, Ed was able to detect that General Elias's coffee was of a better quality than the coffee that was available in Resembool after only taking a few sips from his mug. The general's coffee had a nice kick to it and was richer than any other coffee that he had drunk before.

_Figures,_ Ed thought, taking another swallow of the dark liquid. _A man with a house like this could probably afford the best coffee on the market – could probably import beans from Aerugo if he really wanted to_.

"So, boys, tell me a bit about yourselves," General Elias requested from where he sat opposite the boys at the table, his blue eyes wide behind his glasses with curiosity. "What field of alchemy do you specialize in? How long have you been practicing the science? You must have started very young."

"Al and I started teaching ourselves alchemy as soon as we learned to read, sir," Ed said boastfully. It was something to be proud of after all. Not many four and five year olds could even begin to grasp alchemy the way they had, especially considering that they hadn't had a teacher and had only had their father's books to learn from.

"Teaching yourselves?" General Elias questioned, sounding fascinated.

"Yes," Al said. "Our dad had a large collection of alchemy books that he left behind when he left. Ed and I spent hours studying them."

The conversation flowed from there. Ed and Al told General Elias a condensed version of their past, while leaving out a good majority of who they actually were and what their lives had actually been like. They told the general of Hohenheim leaving them and their mother, though they never mentioned their father's name. They told of their mother's death, though they did not tell or even hint at their attempt to bring her back. They told of attending the local school in Resembool and of Granny Pinako keeping an eye on them over the years, though they did not mention that they ever left Resembool to study alchemy under Teacher. They did not mention how they met Mustang. They did not mention how or when they got their automail. They did not tell of their struggles over the last year to just stand up on their own and move forward in their lives in the only way that they knew how.

At some point during their conversation, Madam Martha refilled their coffee mugs and brought each of them a heaping plate of biscuits and gravy. Ed dug into his plate with gusto, finding Madam Martha's cooking to be just as delicious as Granny's if not better. As they ate and drank their fill, his and Al's story began to wind down.

"We don't really have a field of specialty yet," Ed told General Elias, after washing down a mouthful of biscuits with a gulp of coffee. "Though, we are interested in the application of alchemy for medical purposes … or perhaps finding a way to use alchemy to advance energy distribution, so that power might be provided to not only the cities and larger villages, but to the more rural areas as well. We might even take it so far as to look into a way of using alchemy to provide a more efficient and dependable source of power to the State of Amestris as a whole. Or we might specialize in something entirely different, like using alchemy to boost the production of crops or to establish renewable water in dessert areas that often have issues with sustaining their water supply or maybe to find a way to use alchemy to create sturdier construction of homes and businesses … fireproofing, weatherproofing, a way to prevent rot and decay and strengthen foundations, a way for a building to retain warmth in the winter, while also remaining cool during the summer."

"We just want to find a way to help people, sir," Al said at the general's stunned look. "The colonel said that once we become State Alchemist, we'll be able to tour the National Laboratories, which will allow us to better understand what is already being researched and what has yet to be explored. We plan on making our decision about what we want to specialize in after we see for ourselves where the gaps are."

"A lot of what you boys are talking about would require a self-sustaining transmutation circle in order for the alchemy to work in constant equivalent exchange," General Elias said with a thoughtful glower after he'd taken a minute to think over the boys' ambitions. "While I'm not entirely sure that it's not possible, I've never heard of anything like it being done before. You'd have to somehow permanently connect the circles that you use with the energy flow of our planet's crust and somehow get them to maintain themselves without the continuous monitoring of an alchemist."

"Just because it hasn't been done before doesn't mean that it can't be done," Ed said, determination shining in his eyes. "There is still much that alchemists don't understand. The truth to our many questions – the ones already asked, as well as the ones that have yet to be asked – is just waiting to be sought after and discovered."

General Elias smiled at the two boys before him. "I see now why Colonel Mustang has taken such an interest in the two of you. Your youth and ideals are refreshing if not inspiring. But I do have to wonder what it is that makes you and Mustang believe that you'll be chosen as this year's State Alchemists when you've no specialty or pre-existing research to offer."

"Just because we have no field of specialty or pre-existing research to offer doesn't mean that our alchemy lacks in strength or innovation," Al said astutely, looking as confident as he and Ed felt about them being chosen as the newest State Alchemists in the autumn. "We are both capable of complex, large scale transmutations and of using our alchemy in the mists of combat."

"Not to mention, our style of alchemy is _unique _to say the least." Ed hesitated, eying General Elias uncertainly, before deciding that they couldn't really hide their abilities from the general, as they'd be staying with the man for the next three months and the man would most likely ask to see their alchemy eventually. Plus, Mustang seemed to trust the general enough to leave them with the man and hadn't told them not to use their alchemy around the man. "We can transmute without circles, sir."

"Pardon me?" General Elias blinked behind his glass, looking taken aback. "I believe that I didn't quite hear you correctly."

Ed met General Elias's disbelieving gaze and purposefully brought his hands together, before reaching out to touch the general's empty coffee mug. In a flash of alchemy, the mug was transmuted into a finely detailed porcelain horse that was rearing back on its haunches and was adorned with an Amestrian style bridle and saddle combination.

"I'll be …" General Elias breathed, taking in the porcelain horse sitting before him with startled eyes. There was an extended moment of silence, as he seemed to study every facet of the horse and appeared entirely entranced by the horse's very existence before he finally looked up from the horse to Ed.

Ed turned his palms up to show that he didn't have a circle inscribed on his hands and that he had indeed transmuted the horse without a transmutation circle.

"_Just because it hasn't been done before doesn't mean that it can't be done,_" General Elias quoted softly, as his eyes roamed over Ed's bear palms. His gaze moved swiftly over Ed's flesh hand, while lingering a bit longer on the automail palm presented to him. He looked over Ed's automail hand as curiously as he had at the porcelain horse, but said nothing about the automail, as he looked back up to meet Ed's golden gaze. "A rare talent, Mustang, a rare talent indeed," the general murmured almost reverently. Looking from Ed to Al, he grinned widely and let out a bark of laughter. "If only I weren't retired, I would love to see your practical exam. You say that you can both transmute like that?"

"Yes, sir," Al said and promptly clapped his hands together, before reaching out to the horse Ed had made. In a second flash of alchemy, the horse was returned to its original form.

"Excellent! Excellent," General Elias said enthusiastically, pushing back his chair and grabbing up his cane to stand.

Ed and Al followed the general's lead and stood as well.

"I imagine that you'd like to get studying right away," General Elias said and motioned for the boys to follow him. "First a tour of the house and a short nap, then we'll see about what it is that you two will need to review for the Exam."

Grabbing their things from the bench near the kitchen entrance, Ed and Al set off with General Elias to tour the rest of the man's house.

–

The general's house consisted of three stories in total, along with a wine cellar beneath the kitchen. On the first floor, there was the entrance hall, sitting room, parlor room, and kitchen, as well as a formal dining room. On the second floor, there was General Elias's office, an extensive library connected to a reading room, and a bathroom. On the third floor, there was the master bedroom, two guest bedrooms, and an additional bathroom. The entire house throughout was decorated in a similar manner as the entrance hall and sitting room, leaving both Ed and Al wide-eyed at the extravagance of the general's home.

After dropping off their things in the rooms that they would be staying in, the general led them back downstairs, through the kitchen, and out to the fenced in yard behind the house. The yard really wasn't all that big and was made even smaller by the large green house that had been constructed along the right brick wall fencing up the yard. The glass construct butted flush against the house and extended for a far as it could go. While both Ed and Al thought that there were plenty of plants growing outside – a large white willow, several different types of ivy climbing the brick walls, dahlias, petunias, and several other types of flowers and shrubs – there were even more plants of native as well as an exotic variety growing within the green house that seemed to double as an alchemy lab.

_So this is why he is call the Nature Alchemist_, Ed thought, as he listened to General Elias discuss the latest plants that he had been working with and followed the man down the long rows of potted flowers, herbs, and various other strange looking plants that he had no name for.

"Are you researching something specific?" Al asked through a yawn, the small boost that he had gotten from the coffee clearly wearing off fast.

"Before I retired, I was researching crossing different species for medicinal purposes … though," General Elias frowned, "my results did sometimes turnout rather volatile and I'd end up with a poisonous plant as a result of my transmutation instead of the harmless one that I was hoping for. Right now, I'm more interested in maintaining the plants that I have. I spend most of my days out here. You boys, of course, are welcome to come out to ask questions or to study my work anytime that you would like."

"Did you have much success with forming new species for medicine?" Ed asked with genuine interest.

"I did." General Elias nodded and pointed across the green house to a plant that had flowers resembling a poppy, but didn't appear to be a poppy plant at all, as it was quite clearly a blossom tree of some sort. "You've heard of Dyphias, have you not?"

Ed and Al nodded.

"It's a strong pain killer that doesn't afflict the mind with delirium," Ed said knowingly, having heard Granny and Winry talk about it.

"_Papaver purus,_" General Elias said in introduction of the plant. "Those flowers are what make Dyphias possible. Just fifteen years ago, its kind didn't even exist."

Ed couldn't help but grin. "_Papaver purus_," he said, testing the name on his tongue, as he studied the plant from where he stood.

"Or otherwise known as a poppy tree." General Elias grinned. "It is my finest work. Many years of my career went into to getting it just right. Today, it is a species in its own right and will live on long after my time has passed and all my research that went into creating it has been forgotten."

"That's amazing," Al said and looked up at General Elias in awe. "To think of all the people you've help … all the people able to be without pain, yet retain a clear mind."

"From what I have been told," General Elias said, looking towards his creation with affection, "my plant has save a good many lives on the battlefield."

"Can we see your notes?" Ed asked eagerly. This was the kind of thing that he and Al wanted to do. They wanted to help people. They wanted to use their alchemy to make the world better. General Elias and the general's poppy tree were proof that State Alchemists weren't just dogs of the Military and really could make a positive difference in the lives of the people of Amestris if they really wanted to.

"While I am honored that you're both so interest in my work, I do think it best if you boys go and get a bit of rest," General Elias said with gentle smile. "You've three months to look at my research. Not to mention, you both have your studies to focus on. Go now, all this will be here when you wake."

With one last longing look at the general's poppy tree, Ed nodded to General Elias and turned to Al. They really did need to get some rest, as neither one of them had slept all that much over the last few days. Plus, the queen sized bed in the room that General Elias had informed him would be his had really looked quite inviting. He almost hadn't wanted to make the trip back downstairs and out to the general's greenhouse.

"Come on, Al," Ed said, throwing his flesh arm over his little brother's shoulder and directing Al back towards the exit.

"Night, General," Al called over his shoulder. "Thank you for letting us stay here."

General Elias chuckled at the scene and waved the two boys away. "Think nothing of it, young man. It pleases me to have such youthful company in my old age."


	8. Lunch at Van't Hof

**Chapter 8: Lunch at Van't Hof**

The streets of Central were nothing like the streets of Resembool. Where Resembool was a quiet and quaint village, Central was a bustling hive of activity. There were people everywhere, cars everywhere, and store fronts and restaurants aplenty. And while Dublith, the home town of Teacher and her husband Sig Curtis, had been fairly decent in size and had been relatively populated with people and cars and all of everything else found in an urban community of its size, it had nothing on the metropolis that was Central. As Ed walked the busy streets of his new home with Al at his side, he could not help but openly gap in awe at the many cars navigating the streets and feel annoyed at the herds of people clogging the sidewalks, as so-and-so stopped to chat with what's-her-name or that-guy-in-the-suit.

"We turn left on Danvers St., right?" Ed asked, seeking confirmation of the directions that General Elias had given him and Al.

"And then right on 3rd Avenue," Al said with a nod.

As he and Al turned left on Danvers St., Ed proceeded to scowl. They had been staying with General Elias for a little over a week now. It wasn't necessarily that he minded staying with the general or anything of the sort. In fact, the last week had been filled with intrigue and the general had been more than happy to answer his and Al's questions or tell them about the work that the man had done for the Military. Ed was certain that he and Al had learned more in the last week than what they had learned in the last few months. General Elias's library was filled with all sorts of rare tomes, and the general had allowed them unrestricted access to the translated research notes that the man had presented to the Top Brass, upon the completion of his poppy tree and several other plants that the man had crossed together by use of alchemy. They hadn't gotten far in looking over the general's research notes, as the general made sure that they devoted a majority of their days to studying for the upcoming State Alchemist Certification Exam, but from what little bit that they had read so far, Ed was fascinated by the man's work to say the least.

No, he didn't necessarily mind staying with the general and had so far been quite pleased with his and Al's time spent with the elderly man. Even Madam Martha was pleasant company and had made sure to do what she could to make their stay enjoyable. The other night she had cooked the best roast beef that he and Al had ever tasted.

The thing that bothered Ed was that he had noticed over the last week that General Elias often got tired and would nap in the afternoons. There were times where the general would have difficulty standing up and other times where the man's hands would shake and it would be hard for the general to raise his watering tin to tend to his plants. Ed wasn't stupid. He knew what death looked like. After all, he and Al had watched their mother die. It was clear to him that the general's age was catching up to the man.

"You should stop thinking about it," Al said softly, interrupting Ed's thoughts and pulling his awareness back to the streets of Central.

"How do you know what I'm thinking about?" Ed demanded with a huff.

"You've been upset ever since General Elias said that he wouldn't be coming with us." Al sighed and gave Ed a look of understanding. "I see it too, brother. But there is nothing we can do. There is no cure for old age."

"Why'd the bastard do this to us?" Ed kicked angrily at a stray pebble on the sidewalk. "Making us care about someone who is just going to die sooner rather than later. Why couldn't he have had us stay somewhere else? Then we never would have known General Elias and his death wouldn't have mattered to –"

"Don't say things like that," Al said in a low hiss, his tone sharp and reproving.

Ed hung his head, his bangs falling forward and shielding his face, and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"The general is a great man, brother," Al said, this time his voice was gentle. "We're lucky that Colonel Mustang has introduced us to him. We're lucky to know the general and to get to speak with him, while he's still alive. I, for one, count it as a privilege and an honor. You should too, brother."

"I know, Al," Ed admitted shamefully. "It's just that we've been through this once already: watching someone who we care about slowly weaken with death. I don't _want_ to do it again."

"I think that's why the colonel placed us with the general." Al bit his lip with uncertainty, before continuing quickly upon Ed looking up at him sharply. "Not to make us go through it again, but because he knows we've been through it once already and knows that we can handle it." Al stuffed his own hands in his pockets and gave his brother a helpless shrug. "You can't tell me you haven't notice the way the general smiles whenever we enter a room that he's in, or that he checks on us before he goes to bed to make sure that we've not sneaked books into our bedrooms and plan on staying up and studying all night."

"I have. He looks after us the way that he looks after his plants." Ed smiled softly, thinking about the way the general seemed to brighten at their mere presence and had taken to looking after them as a grandfather might look after his grandsons. The man had consistently made sure that they ate proper meals, got proper rest, and took breaks from studying every once in a while. While he had initially found the interruptions annoying, he had to admit that the general always made his interruptions into their studies worthwhile, whether it was with a fantastic meal, an animated tale of events from the man's past, or their beds turned down and awaiting them.

"We should help the general out in the green house when we get back," Ed said decisively. "I think that he'd like that."

"I think so too, brother." Al grinned.

The remainder of their walk to the café that they were supposed to meet up with Mustang at was lighter and much happier in nature. Ed pushed aside his worries about General Elias's health and allowed Al to distract him with discussion of their studies and what Madam Martha might make them for dinner. Upon reaching the café, which was a few blocks up from where Danvers St. intersected 3rd Avenue, Ed led Al past the noisy sidewalk seating and through the open, blue painted doorway into the busy establishment. He scanned the indoor seating, but didn't see Mustang anywhere in the crowd of patrons and waiters, just as he hadn't seen the man outside either.

"Excuse me, miss," Ed said, getting the attention of the hostess behind the counter near the door.

The hostess looked Ed and Al over with a dubious, harassed look, before pasting a smile on her face. "Walk-ins are a forty-five minute wait at the moment, young sir. If you would like to put your name down for the next available table, you may. I'll just need your surname and the number of expected guests in your party. I surmise a parent or relative will be joining you …"

"We have a reservation, lady," Ed said, glaring up at the hostess for treating him and Al like incompetent children who needed someone to hold their hand while walking down the street.

"You should find us listed under Elias, Dwight Elias," Al said quickly, before Ed could explode at the woman. "The general called ahead informing the café that he wouldn't be coming today, but that Edward," he point to his brother, "and Alphonse," he pointed to himself, "Elric would still be filling his reservation and that Colonel Roy Mustang would be joining us as expected."

The hostess looked down at her black book of reservations, moving aside several notes. Upon apparently finding their reservation and the note amending it, she blushed. "Yes … um … everything seems to be in order. I apologize. Please, young sirs, right this way."

Ed silently followed after the woman with Al trailing behind him. He did his best to look dignified, as she led them past several tables seating fancily dress men and women. As he had come to expect with all things related to General Elias, the café wasn't just an ordinary café to stop in at for a nice cup of coffee and perhaps a light lunch. Van't Hof Café was classy with white tablecloths and silver napkin rings holding neatly folded, blue cloth napkins and a place setting with frosted glass water goblets and more forks than necessary. Though both Elrics had been learning from General Elias what each fork was actually meant to be used for during the course of a meal, Ed still found the idea of the use of multiple forks just to consume one meal laughable, not that the knife and spoon situation was any better.

"A waiter will be with you momentarily," the hostess said, as she brought the brothers to a stop before a table set for four near one of the large picture windows facing the street and outdoor seating.

Al sat down first, taking the seat furthest to the left and closest to the window. Ed sat down on the next chair over, leaving Mustang to sit in one of the two chairs opposite them whenever it was that the bastard finally arrived. With one last apologetic smile, the hostess left them.

"Fancy place," Al murmured softly, his gold eyes taking in the elaborate décor of the ceiling and the woodwork that made up the walls and framed the windows.

Ed wasn't given a chance to respond, as their waiter had shown up swiftly and poured each of them a glass of water and inquired about the drinks that they would like to go with their meal.

"They'll both have a chilled glass of your raspberry lemonade," a familiar voice cut in, before Ed or Al could give a response to the startling range of drinks that they had been offered. As Mustang sat down in the chair opposite Ed, he sent a grin at the two boys and looked back up at the waiter. "I'll have one as well."

"Of course, sir," the waiter said, before making to pour Mustang a glass of water and to distribute the menus that he had brought over to the table with him.

"What if I wanted one of those fizzy drinks?" Ed demanded of Mustang, once their waiter had left.

"Trust me, you're better off staying away from those," Mustang said knowingly. "What makes the drink fizz is carbon dioxide dissolved into the water that's used as the base of the drink. Though the chemists have claimed that they've made the carbonic acid safe for consumption, their formula still needs work. I've heard of people being hospitalized from drinking the stuff."

"If it's unsafe, why is it available to the public?" Al asked with horror.

"Politics, money … take your pick." Mustang shrugged and relaxed back into his chair, looking completely at ease in the three piece suit that he was wearing and not at all concerned with the high-class atmosphere of the café, as if the setting were natural for him. "Those who study the other sciences – physics, chemistry, and so forth – they invest a lot into any win that they can get over us alchemists. These fizzy drinks are the first marketable invention that the chemists have developed independently in years."

"Still –" Al began, visibly upset that any field of science could be so irresponsible and release a harmful product to the public.

"It's neither here nor there." Mustang waved off Al's concern. "The drink isn't fatal. It will eventually be pulled from the market or the chemists will find a way to fix the problem. It's the Department of Health's dilemma to worry about, not the Military's."

"Distributed responsibility," Ed murmured in recognition of what Mustang was telling them, remembering the information that he had read on the Military. Rank helped to distribute responsibilities and provide efficiency within the Military … as well as let everyone know whose ass they needed to kiss and whose ass they could order to do their dirty work. Obviously, there would be a similar system of distributed responsibility throughout the entirety of the government and not just within the Military.

"Exactly, Ed." Mustang nodded to Ed, looking pleased. "While there are some things that are our problem and we can work towards doing something about them, other things aren't and we have to trust that the people responsible for them will do their jobs."

"Trust, huh?" Ed said, eying Mustang in a way that clearly communicated just how much trust he had in man.

"A foreign concept for you, I know." Mustang's lips pulled into a partial smirk, before the expression abruptly settle into a grimace and the man sighed instead, clearly thinking better of riling Ed up. "They serve a great quiche here," he said, as he picked up his menu and flipped it open.

Taking the hint, Ed picked up his own menu with Al following suit.

The meal was … pleasant. There was no other word to describe the hour that followed. While Ed didn't necessary _dislike_ Mustang, he hadn't ever made it a point to get along with the man. In fact, as far as he was concerned, Mustang was a manipulative bastard and wasn't to be trusted. The man was the type of person to claim one set of motivations, as the man, in truth, did what he did with an entirely different set of motivations in mind. There was no way to know where one stood with him at any given moment. At the current moment, all Ed knew for certain was that Mustang wanted something from him and Al and that equivalent exchange would be paid out in the end. Yet, despite all reasons for animosity and his usual interactions with Mustang, the meal passed without incident and Ed found that he was actually enjoying not only the food and drink, but the company and atmosphere as well.

Ed, at first, hadn't noticed that what he had originally thought to be a terrible idea and had thought to be an even more terrible idea, once General Elias informed him and Al that he'd not be joining them, wasn't actually such a terrible idea after all. With living in the country for a majority of their lives and electing to devote themselves to the science of alchemy, it wasn't unusual that he and Al would lose themselves in their studies for weeks, sometimes months at a time. For them, it wasn't uncommon to stay home for extend periods without going out 'on the town' so to speak. It wasn't like there was anything all that interesting in Resembool or even a 'town' to go out on. Therefore, he hadn't really understood why General Elias had insisted that he and Al go out, or why they ought to spend a bit of time with Mustang. They had their studies to focus on, after all, plus General Elias's research notes to look over. They had things to _do_, better things to do with their time.

Now, however, with his stomach full of fine food and Mustang not being a standoffish ass or a smug bastard, like the man had come across to date, Ed could see reason in going out. It was good to get out of the general's house and to adventure out into Central, even if they only adventured out to a café a few blocks away from the general's house. It wasn't so terrible to spend some time with Mustang either … he supposed, though he wasn't quite sure what to make of the man acting like a decent human being for once. It was surprising, intriguing, as well as frustrating and a little more than concerning.

Up until this point, his and Al's interaction with Mustang had been out of necessity and with purpose. Sure the man had called to check up on them every so often, but Ed knew better than to think that the calls had been placed out of genuine concern for him and Al and how they were doing. It was more like Mustang was checking up on the progress of his investment. Oh, Al might be naïve enough to believe Mustang actually care for them in some way, but Ed lacked his brother's faith in people and often saw the darker motivations behind people's actions. He didn't doubt for a second that Mustang saw him and Al as an investment and a very valuable one at that. There was something more going on than what Mustang's claimed: them boosting the man's career and earning him quick promotions, once the man had them under his command. If it were just that, Mustang's interest in them should be only enough to get them under his command with the bare minimum of fuss. The man was being far _too_ helpful and was far _too_ interested in his and Al's own interests.

Not that Ed was about to tell Al about his suspicions, as Al seemed to like Mustang well enough and it wasn't like Mustang was a bad person and was entirely _un_trustworthy. There was no reason to push off his paranoia on Al and have Al be frustrated with Mustang as well. He could be cautious enough around Mustang for the both of them. No, if he had thought for even a second that Mustang was a big enough threat to them that he needed to warn Al to watch himself around the man, they wouldn't have ever come to Central. They would have stayed in Resembool, where they would have been safe and far away from Mustang. Mustang's motivations, whatever they may be, were greater than what the man claimed. That much was obvious. Yet, Ed didn't quite get the impression that they were sinister in nature. Not to mention, Mustang had this thing about them making their own choices. He'd never forget the first conversation that he and Al had ever had with the man.

_"Really, Edward," Mustang had raised a single, elegant eyebrow, "I am offering to do you a huge favor and look the other way regarding what you and your brother have done, yet you're not even going to listen to my sales pitch? That's awfully rude, don't you think?"_

_"And if we listen and still say no?" he had asked, while scowling for all that he was worth._

_"If you listen and give my offer serious thought and you still say no afterwards, then we part ways and never speak again if that is what you truly want," Mustang had assured firmly, leaving no room for misunderstanding. "I'm not going to force you to join the Military and become State Alchemists, but I am going to ask that you at least listen to what is being offered to you and take time to consider what you could gain from the Military in return for your service to the State of Amestris."_

The words '_I'm not going to force you_' had stuck out the most to Ed and still did. Mustang had said and done a lot of things during that conversation that made it clear, if not with words then in actions, that the man wasn't entirely heartless and that the man wouldn't use his position or the knowledge of what they had done to force them into becoming State Alchemist, which the man had quite obviously desired. Even at that point, Mustang had had the trump card of saving their lives, yet the man hadn't mentioned it. The man still hadn't brought it up to date, and Ed was certain that Mustang would never bring it up … that _that_ particular card would never be played. While he, himself, as well as Al, considered it a debt, he knew instinctively that Mustang didn't consider it one at all. It wasn't that Mustang was holding saving their lives over their heads and waiting to bring it up at an opportune moment. No, the man acted as if saving their lives was of no consequence to their current plans and whatever may come to pass in their future. Ed didn't know enough about why Mustang viewed things the way the man did, but he suspected that Mustang saw saving their lives as payment towards the man's own incurred debt, whatever debt that might be.

So, yes, Mustang wasn't a horrible person. Ed could acknowledge as much. Mustang would give them a choice in the end. However, Mustang was a master at using various means to obtain his goals. The man wouldn't force him and Al, but that didn't mean that the man wouldn't find a way to persuade them to do whatever it was that the man wanted them to do in accordance to the man's endgame. Ed didn't like it, as he knew Mustang's influence was what had brought him and Al to Central to become State Alchemist. It wasn't necessarily coercion at this point. He and Al did want to become State Alchemist for themselves, but that didn't take away from the fact that Mustang was an expert manipulator and it was the man's subtle manipulations that had set them down their current path.

Even now, as they sat at the same dining table and Mustang spoke and acted in a way that was pleasant and lacking in hubris, as well as other bastardly behavior, Ed didn't doubt that there was purpose behind the man's words and actions. This – whatever it was that Mustang was attempting to do – was just a step towards directing him and Al towards what Mustang truly desired. The most irritating thing of all about it was that Ed was finding it difficult not to follow Mustang's lead and succumb to the man's charisma.

–

It was hard to keep the smirk off his face, as he enraptured the two young alchemists' attention. Mustang hadn't quite known what to expect from today. After the week that he had had – General Halcrow breathing down his neck at every turn, the Eastern Liberation Front putting a price on his head (apparently he had _really_ pissed them off), and Hawkeye burying him in never ending paperwork – he had been looking forward to his weekend. His original plans had involved relieving some of his stress with a woman named Tabitha and perhaps visiting General Elias's home on Sunday to check up on the Elrics. Not that he really needed to check up on them now that he had entrusted them to the general. General Grumman had always spoken highly of General Elias and from the few times that he had met up and spoken with General Elias himself, he had surmised that the retired general was just the man for the Elrics to stay with, while they studied for the upcoming State Alchemist Certification Exam.

Not only was Dwight Elias a knowledgeable alchemist and had been a full-fledged general prior to the man's retirement, the elderly general had accomplished much with his alchemy that Mustang knew the Elrics would respect and find interesting. On top of that, the man had been notorious for sponsoring worthy alchemist to take the State Exam. According to the records, alchemists sponsored by General Elias more often than not earned a State Title, if not the first year that they took the exam then the second. While the prestige of being under General Elias's tutelage was definitely beneficial to the brothers and would reflect beneficially upon him, there was a different reason for why he had decided to place the two with the general that would ultimately prove to be even more beneficial to the brothers and him in the long run. In fact, he could see evidence of it at the very moment and had witnessed the general's fine touch throughout the meal.

Mustang doubted that either one of the boys would realize the true purpose for their stay with General Elias, until they had progressed well beyond the initial stages at which they might protest his and the general's efforts. It had taken him several months to figure out how to culture the two without either one – especially Ed – kicking up an immediate fuss about it. The two were country boys, unrefined and unaccustomed to the nuances of higher society. That much had been clear to him from the start. Oh, they were capable of manners at times, but only of the standard 'yes, please' or 'no, thank you'. They were raw, young, experienced in some things, yet inexperienced in others, still naïve, but not quite. Their minds, though … their minds were unbelievably sharp. Their minds were gold, pure gold hidden beneath their golden hair and behind the molten gold of their expressive eyes. Their minds were perfection, genius. It was truly remarkable and utterly fascinating how their minds worked. The leaps of logic that the two could make were outstanding. The ingenuity and creativity that they possessed was on par with their expansive knowledge.

_Potential,_ the word once more assaulted Mustang's thoughts, _pure, raw potential._

It had taken all of two hours in the boys' presence for General Elias to come to the same conclusion. As learned, yet unlearned as the two may be, their potential was staggering. The brothers were like diamonds in the rough. Even with the smallest amount of polish, they would begin to shine. If the two were to succeed on the path that they had chosen to set themselves down, they would need all the polishing that they could get. It was one thing to be an asset of the Military and another to be an integral part of the Military. To be an asset was to be used by the Military. To be an integral part was to have leverage within the Military to use for one's own beliefs and motivations.

Most State Alchemists were considered assets, and they allowed themselves to remain so by distancing themselves from the Military. In the end, their misguided attempts to protect themselves from the Military nearly always left them all the more vulnerable. What Ed and Al wanted, on the other hand, 'to work within the system' would take the two learning how to do exactly that. They'd be entering the Military as majors, meaning that they would already be among the field officers and would have occasional contact with general officers. Men among the higher ranks – at least those with true sway and power – were accustomed to and held with respect the finer idiosyncrasies that dictated life of the Elite. Dinner parties, symphonies, plays, operas, museums, art galleries; proper manners, proper posture, proper respect; subtle usage of words over blunt and direct statements or questions, body language and facial expressions as the more effective means of communication, the tell all of the infection of a person's voice combined with the emotion hidden within their eyes; it was all a part of the dance that weaved within and outside of the strict chain of command that formed the backbone of the Military that the Elric brothers would need to learn to truly advance away from being considered mere assets and towards having their own sway to use to their own means.

Unsurprisingly, the Elrics appeared to have been quick to pick up what General Elias had set out to teach them over the course of the week. The general had agreed with Mustang that it was probably best to start out small and see how receptive the boys would be. Therefore, the week had been focused on table etiquette. Judging from the way that both Elrics made an effort to sit up straight in their chairs and had been conscious of the silverware that they had used and had been quick to remove their elbows from the table, the two had been receptive of the general's teachings and were inclined to use what they had learned. Of course, Mustang had noticed that neither one had the finesse of dining down pat, but both had made the effort to conduct the meal in a proper manner befitting their environment without a single scowl. He had also noticed that both watched him for clues when they were uncertain about something, which he was rather pleased with. It was a step in the right direction, an indication that they wanted to learn and would most likely accept further teachings in similar matters of which they were currently ignorant of.

With the two sitting across from him – both dressed in dress shirts and vests, Al with his hair up in a high ponytail and Ed with his hair in a neat braid down his back – and clearly on their best behavior, Mustang could already see the beginnings of the unrefined, rough edges being buffed away. Watching them both act as young gentlemen, on top of knowing what they were capable of, acutely increased his desire to have their support in becoming Fuhrer. Just as he had expected, the two were the right combination of youth, intelligence, and naivety. With the right guidance, in ten or so years, the men that they would grow to become would be men of vast influence and most likely of vast wealth as well. He could already see the buried charisma within them that would pave the way of their future, making him thankful that he had essentially already secured the boys' placement under his command, as that charisma combined with their intellect would be very appealing to certain parties in a few months' time.

Though the boys were obviously oblivious, as they did not know who they were dining with within Van't Hof Café, the two were already catching General Raven and General Fritz's interests. Mustang wasn't so vain as to believe that it was merely because the two Elrics were dining with him that the two generals had stayed long past finishing their meals and had repeatedly glanced in their direction. It was well known that General Elias took lunch at the Van't Hof Café every Saturday and Mustang would bet that the table that he and the Elrics were sitting at was General Elias's accustom table. That fact combined with the rumor circulating that two child alchemists were set to take the upcoming State Alchemist Certification Exam would be the more likely reason for why General Raven and General Fritz had stayed.

Mustang did nothing to stop his lips from pulling into a smirk, as General Raven quickly diverted his gaze to avoid making eye contact. It would have been one thing for General Elias to have taken the brothers out to lunch, another for the general to have invited him to join them, but the meaning behind his lunch with the Elrics without General Elias's presence spoke of something entirely different. He would have to thank the general not only for the fine meal, but for the message the occasion sent. Edward and Alphonse Elric were _his_ discovery alone. Not only was it _he _who had discovered the young prodigies and _he_ who would be responsible for their recruitment, but by sitting at General Elias's table and filling the general's reservation, it was also apparent that he had the support of General Elias in bring the boys into the Military and that the brothers had General Elias's approval and vote of confidence.

Mustang didn't doubt that General Raven and General Fritz had already begun to understand that the brothers weren't just a couple of kids and that the age exemption that the two child alchemists had received, in order for them to take the upcoming State Alchemist Certification Exam, was far from the joke that it at first appeared to be. While their looks were somewhat curious, their glances were far more assessing. The way General Fritz had taken to cocking his head the slightest bit towards them told of the man attempting to listen into his and brothers' conversation. Naturally, the Elrics had wanted to talk about alchemy, so he'd be surprised if the general had understood much of anything of what had been said … well, other than the fact that the two boys were indeed alchemists and adept ones at that.

"Thank you," Mustang said to the waiter, as the man set the bill down before him and held out a pen for him to use to sign his name. General Elias would be paying the bill the next time that the general came into the restaurant, as the general had insist that their lunch was on him. His signature, however, was required as proof of his and the Elrics' attendance and that the tab was indeed theirs.

As the waiter accepted the signed bill with a gracious bow and gave a standard parting that consisted of a return invitation and an additional bow of farewell, Mustang motioned to his young companions to stand. He could see that the two were abuzz with energy and needed to be freed from the restraints of their current environment. He was reluctant, though, for his time with them to end, as the two had proved to be pleasant company so far and his week really had been shit and he really didn't want to think about it or the prospects of returning to work on Monday. As he wouldn't be able to see Tabitha until later, after she got of work for the evening, spending the afternoon with the brothers was ideal and most definitely preferred to immediately returning home to the pile of laundry that had compiled over the week and the dirty dishes awaiting him in his kitchen sink.

"There is a park not far from here," Mustang said decisively, standing as well and stepping away from the table. "Care to join me for a stroll?"

"It is a nice day, brother," Al said, looking to Ed with clear desire to accept the invitation.

His gold eyes affixed on Mustang, Ed hesitated at short moment, before giving a sharp nod of acquiescence. "I suppose it is."

The barely noticeable inflection in the boy's voice left Mustang with the impression that Ed wasn't merely referring to the weather with that particular statement.

"Besides, it would be good to see a bit more of Central," Ed added, as if Mustang's invitation was of little consequence to him and that wanting to see more of Central was the only reason why he had agreed to join Mustang in going to the park.

"Shall we?" Mustang motioned for the two to take the lead out of the restaurant, smiling at Ed's temperament. If he wasn't mistaken, he had made some headway in gaining the boy's trust today.


	9. Three Months

**Chapter 9: Three Months**

Mustang's head drooped against his left hand, as his right hand attempted to control the movements of the pen that he was holding. He gave a half-hearted effort to signing his name at the bottom the form, which was but one of the many forms awaiting his signature stacked upon his desk. The form that he was currently in the process of signing was a request for approval to send a Central squad up north to join a North squad under a lieutenant named Rikel to investigate Himesa, a small North town disconnected from the main roads and railway. According to the report, there was a high probability of an encampment of Drachman loyalists squatting along the eastern outskirts of the town and Northern Command wanted Central Command to be aware and a part of the operation should it turn out to be the case.

Finishing off the 'g' of his name with a flourish, Mustang glanced up at the clock above his office door. He groaned at seeing that it was only a little past 15:00. The clock hands had moved all of twelve minutes since he had last looked at the blasted thing and _that_ had felt like a half-hour ago at the least, if not longer. Sitting back in his chair and letting out a frustrated sigh, he scrubbed his hands over his face, rubbing at his tired eyes. He was truly getting sick of desk duty. With the threat against him from the Eastern Liberation Front, however, General Halcrow had the perfect excuse to confine him to Central and to his desk in specific. What he wouldn't give to be doing something that didn't involve him reading over and signing off on an ever growing stack of paperwork.

At two abrupt raps on his office door, disturbing the quiet of his office and his thoughts, Mustang lowered his hands from his face and forced himself to sit up straight in his chair. Picking up his pen and bring an unreviewed request form towards him, he gave permission for the person to enter his office. "Come in."

"Roy!" was the shouted greeting, as Lieutenant Colonel Hughes stepped through the oak door with a large smile plastered across his face.

"Hughes," Mustang greeted in what he hoped was a civil tone, as his grip tightened the slightest bit on his pen and he looked up from the form that he had been pretending to have been reading over.

A bombardment of Elicia and Gracia photos wasn't exactly what he had meant about having something else to do and was far from what Mustang felt that he needed at the current moment, but Hughes had been the only ally that his sanity had had in all of Central Command over the last three months. Hawkeye had seemed determine to drive him insane with paperwork, Havoc had offered no sympathy and had dutifully took over Hawkeye's efforts when Hawkeye hadn't been around to pile stack after stack of paperwork upon his desk, the rest of his men had been scared into compliance (by Hawkeye or Halcrow – he didn't know) and had been no help at all, and Halcrow had seen fit to not only keep him on desk duty, but to have a rotation of Colonel Stalwart's men monitor his daily movements (all for his own safety, of course). So, if Hughes wanted to tell him about Elicia pulling herself up on various items of furniture or to brag about Gracia's apple pie, he would endure it without complaint. He owed his friend as much, as he might have done something stupid by now if not for Hughes.

"One of _those _days, huh?" Hughes asked, concern showing on his face, as he stepped up before Mustang's desk and surveyed the colonel with intelligent eyes. His hand hung suspended in the air in a frozen reach for the inner pocket of his jacket. As Mustang met his assessing gaze, his hand fell back down at his side and he frowned. "Did you sleep last night?"

_No,_ Mustang answered in his mind. He'd been far too busy researching the transmutation circle that had passed across his desk the day before. Something about it had seemed familiar and had bugged him enough that he felt compelled to look into it further. In the report that the circle had been presented in, the circle had been designated as being of little significance. It had been found chalked on the floor of an abandon townhouse on Evergreen Way by a homeless man who had been looking for shelter from the onset of colder weather. The MPs believed it to be graffiti done by kids due to the peculiarity of the design. Even he, the Flame Alchemist, doubted whether the circle was actually functional, as the lines to direct the flow of power and several of the symbols along the outer ring of the circle weren't any that he recognized or knew to have purpose. As far as he could deduce, the alchemist who had developed the design was a novice … or a genesis … or was simply using a form of alchemy that he wasn't privy to – one of the three, depending on if the circle actually worked or not and how well it worked. Then again, the array could have been done by kids who wanted to stir up trouble and probably didn't know how dangerous playing around with transmutation circles could be. He doubted it though, as the lines and symbols were very precise.

"I'll take your silence as confirmation that you did not, in fact, sleep last night." Hughes gave Mustang his best reproving look.

"Save the lecture," Mustang said shortly. "I'm going straight to bed as soon as I'm allowed to leave for the day."

"At least tell me that you ate lunch." Hughes stared Mustang down, his shrewd gaze demanding an honest answer.

Mustang sighed and gestured to the mounds of paperwork on his desk. "I've hardly had time for lunch. I swear this stuff is coming from every office in the building."

"It probably is," Hughes said without sympathy. He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender at the glare Mustang pinned him with. "I'm just saying. As you've made it a point to piss off nearly all of the Top Brass, it's not all that surprising that they're now burying you with paperwork. _And _… with the State Alchemist Certification Exam next week –"

"Hughes," Mustang said warningly, not wanting to have the same argument that they had already had many times before.

"I know, Roy. You know what you're doing and have everything under control. The Elrics are perfectly aware of the risks and brutality involve with military life and are far from the children that I think they are," Hughes conceited, looking not at all convinced.

A tense silence filled the room, as the two men stared at each other – both knowing what the other was thinking, but neither willing to start the argument that would inevitably follow should either man verbalize their thoughts. They had gone back and forth on the matter of the Elric brothers joining the ranks of the State Alchemists enough to know the other's position and counterarguments on the matter. Mustang stood firmly by his decision to bring the boys into the Military, while Hughes objected Mustang's actions in regards to the boys and would rather that Mustang called the whole thing off before it was too late, continually citing that the brothers were only children and couldn't possibly cope with the brutality of military life at such a young age, no matter what they might have been through and how confident they were about their abilities and what they believed they wanted out of life.

"Come around for dinner tonight," Hughes said finally, effectively decompressing the tense atmosphere.

"Like I said, I'm going straight to bed as soon as I'm done here," Mustang said with a hint of apology.

"Maybe tomorrow night?" Hughes tried.

"Tomorrow." Mustang nodded.

"Gracia will be please." Hughes beamed. "She's been talking about making her grandmother's stew for weeks ..."

Mustang tuned out Hughes, as his friend began his accustom rambling about his wife and daughter. He nodded his head and made sounds of ascent, while embracing Hughes's interruption as the momentary reprieve that it was and falling into a state of permissible half-sleep. Hughes would get around to whatever official business the man had come to his office for soon enough.

–

"Fuck it!"

"Brother!"

Ed scowled around the stack of books before him, ensuring that Al, who was sitting across from him at the massive table that took up the center of the reading room off of General Elias's library, got the full treatment to his displeasure, seeing as their pointless bout of research was Al's idea to begin with.

"It doesn't exist, Al!" Ed gritted his teeth and added the book that he'd just slammed close, after having spent an additional two hours to the countless hours they had already waisted on the endeavor reading over something entirely useless – okay, not entirely useless, but not what he and Al were looking for – once again, to a stack of books to his right! "It's a child's tale. A fable. Not real! Not possible!"

Al drew his lips into a hard, determined line and treated his brother to a narrowed eye look filled with reproach. "You're the one who said our calculations were correct, that we created exactly what we meant to. Essentially at least. We just messed up with the soul bit." He lowered his voice. "It's not like we'd be trying to create new life, brother. We don't need a soul for this. We already have souls. Don't you see it? Surely, if alchemy can create living, human tissue – as we proved possible – we ought to be able to –"

There was a creak of the floorboards outside the room, up the hall near the stairs. Ed and Al's heads whipped around, as they looked to the clock that hung above the reading room's main entrance with stricken faces. They'd gotten absorbed in their research _again!_

"Tea," they said in unison, both jumping up from their chairs. They dashed over to the door, intent on heading General Elias off, both knowing that there was no way that they'd be able to put their research away before the general came in to remind them to come down for the afternoon meal, which they were five minutes late for already.

"I was just coming to get you." General Elias smiled, while shifting his weight on his cane in order to peeking around the brothers, as the two blond boys filed out into the hall with flushed cheeks and guilty looks upon their faces. "Madam Martha has made the most exquisite lamb croissants," he continued, as if he didn't suspect the boys of being up to trouble, which he knew they were well capable of after having housed them for three months.

"Sounds great," Al said as casually as he could manage.

"Yeah, we're starved," Ed agreed, achieving a normal tone a bit better than his brother.

General Elias chuckled at receiving the boys' accustom response to the announcement of a meal, even if it was a minor meal that was nothing more than a small snack and a cup tea. "How is your review work coming along?" he asked, as he turned back up the hall and hobbled back the way he had come, trusting the boys to fall into step behind him.

"We're nearly finished. Just a bit more now," Ed lied through his teeth, just as he had for the last two weeks.

In truth, the brothers had finished their review work almost as soon as the general had assigned it to them and they'd been doing independent research ever since, while slowly handing in their complete work at night. Though, by this point, Ed had had just about enough of Al's wild goose chase, as he had absolutely no desire to tangle with the Gate again, even if the possibility of facing _It_ a second time was remote with the way Al was suggesting that they go about things this time. He wished desperately that Al would just agree with him already to stay far away from human transmutation, as they had agreed to do so back in Resembool.

Since they'd reviewed some of General Elias's work with organic matter, however, Al had become convinced that there was a way for them to not necessarily get their limbs back, but to regrow them at the very least. The troublesome matter for Ed was that he had no way to counter Al's arguments, because he knew his brother was on to something. So long as they took it slow and got the calculations and equivalences absolutely right, the possibility was there. Still, He was scared … for the both of them … to go down that road a second time. There was a very good chance that the next time they faced the Gate, neither of them would walk away alive – if they faced It again, that is.

"How wonderful," General Elias said, as he led the boys into the parlor, where Madam Martha had set up their afternoon tea. "Are you feeling confident? The exam is only a few days away now."

"Most definitely, sir," Al declared, as he sat down at the far right place setting laid out upon the mahogany table, across from the general's accustom seat, and Ed sat down beside him at his left. The elegance of their surroundings and the detail paid to the layout of their tea with true silver silverware, decorative Xing plates, and cloth napkins folded neatly in crystal goblets hardly even phasing him or Ed, as both had become familiar with such things and grown used to the standard of living General Elias granted them as his guests.

"Even more so than when we first arrived." Ed assured, while eying his serving of finger food sized lamb croissants hungrily.

The general smiled and pour Ed and Al's tea. Without needing to ask, he added sugar and cream to the boys' individual preferences – one sugar and a touch of cream for Al, three sugars and no cream for Ed.

Ed grinned. "I don't think we'll have too much to worry about."

General Elias hummed and picked up his tea cup, sipping at the hot liquid. "It is good your studies are going so well. I'm very proud of you boys," he said sincerely.

"That means a lot to us, sir," Ed returned just as honestly, his eyes brightening, while Al's cheeks returned to a flushed state – this time due to modesty rather than embarrassment at nearly being caught doing something which they really shouldn't even be contemplating.

The general's approval of the two brothers had become more and more important to Ed and Al over the course of their stay with the man. While they had had Teacher and Granny's expectations to live up to over the years following their mother's death, gaining the general's praise felt different to gaining the two women's praise. Teacher and Granny weren't their family – neither was General Elias, of course – but it didn't stop the two boys from feeling a close kinship with the general, who treated them very much like grandsons and seemed to see them as the family that the man had never had the opportunity to have.

As Ed and Al had learned a month and a half earlier, General Elias had lived his life purely as a man of science, having dedicated the entirety of his life to his work and coming to regret having done so in his old age. The lost opportunity of obtaining a wife and having sons, daughters, grandsons, and granddaughters had left him a very lonely man, as death encroached upon him. His loneliness Ed and Al alleviated, their company treasured by the old general more than they could possibly understand according to the way general spoke of his affections for them.

As the light, afternoon meal commenced, Ed and Al listened with great interest to General Elias, as he recounted the many State Alchemists Certification Exams that he'd sat in on, as well as his own exam. Both took mental notes on each portion of the Exam that the general describe. Prior to today, the general hadn't truly discussed the Exam with them, as he hadn't wanted them to lose focus on their studies and end up stressing themselves out long before it was even time for them to take the Exam.

"So we sit the written portion first," Ed said, seeing reason in the way the Exam was set up. "If we do well enough, we're called back for the interview, and if we say the right thing, we go on to the practical portion. That doesn't sound too bad."

Al nodded. "It's much better than everything being crammed into a single day."

"Just remember," General Elias said with a touch of warning, "the hard part isn't the Exam itself, but gaining the right kind of notice from the Top Brass. You can pass the written, make it through the interview, and do more than sufficient on the practical and still not get selected. Only one or two State Alchemists are named each testing season. You're going to want to bring everything you have and hold nothing back. It is no place for modesty." He turned his gaze on Al. "Yet, brash action won't do either." He looked to Ed. "You want to dazzle them. Personal charm, the elegance, efficiency, and power of you work, standing apart with a style and affluent air unique to yourself: that is what will catch and hold their interests. They're looking for good alchemists who have the potential to become good soldiers, but more so for the next Roy Mustang."

The general chuckled heartily at the boys' surprised, yet intrigued looks.

"Oh, he's a pain in the ass for sure and few desire him under their command, once they've had the experience of having him under their command," General Elias acknowledged, still chuckling. "Nonetheless, there is a reason Mustang has been able to rise through the ranks to reach the post of Colonel at 26 years of age. He's the most effective soldier the Military has. He can do the job of an entire platoon on the battlefield, efficiently lead his men through a field of flying bullet to tackling a mountain of paperwork in the office, works well on clandestine missions and especially well under extreme pressure, and possesses the ability to more than just kiss up to the Top Brass when he's so inclined. According to my sources, he's the man assigned the most difficult, dangerous, and essential missions, as every general, the Fuhrer included, knows Mustang is always the man for the job, always more than up to proving just how good he is. Having even another alchemist like Mustang under their command would make the Top Brass' year, but if they manage to obtain two," he looked from Ed to Al and grinned almost fiendishly, while peering over his glasses intently at the boys, "and if those two alchemists somehow managed to be placed directly under Mustang's command …"

"Mustang's value goes up," Al said with understanding.

Ed furrowed his brow. "Not just up, but practically explodes!"

"Mustang and his unit, or rather Mustang and the two alchemists under him, would become the most valuable combination of assets the Military possesses." General Elias nodded. "The possibility of what you three could accomplished won't go unnoticed by the Top Brass, the Fuhrer in specific … as well as the potential threat you three could pose. Mustang is playing a dangerous game." He pinned the boys with a severe look. "I tell you this as my last and only warning. You've already set events in motion and cultivated circumstance that will place you directly under his command, creating that pocket of power that Mustang intends very much so to capitalize on. Make no mistake, he will take you far, very far – I don't doubt it – but their will be a cost involved, a great personal cost to the both of you. So, if you have any doubt about what you're getting yourselves into, any whatsoever, Monday is the final day to back out."

"What cost, sir?" Al asked pensively and bit his lower lip.

"Every shred of innocence you have left, my child," the general stated grimly. "You'll be stepping into the world of men, powerful men with high ambitions. It is no place for a boy or naivety. You'll see things no one your age should see and will be ordered to do things someone so young should never have to do," he said, his eyes softening with tender affection as he looked from Al to Ed. "There is a certain measure of the children you once were left within you, beneath all you've suffered and all you've accomplished. You must be certain that you're prepared to give up the last of your innocence. Once named State Alchemists, you become men, become dogs of the Military. The Military will own you … for life, in essence."

"You're right, sir, that Al and I have suffered, as well as have accomplished much," Ed said with determination in his eyes. "But you're mistaken that there is any measure of the children we once were left within us. We've seen more than most men twice our age have seen, done more too. It is not naivety or innocence that we possess, but lingering immaturity, sir. If the price to accomplish what we desire to accomplish by joining the Military is to give up that immaturity, I've no qualms. Childhood wasn't exactly for us."

Ed glanced at Al, who met his gaze with understanding, both knowing just how true his words were. It was as if the world hadn't wanted them to be children, not for very long at any rate. He looked back to the general. He knew what he and Al wanted, and they would have it. He and Al, they were going to be the best they could be, do the best they could to help and protect the citizens of Amestris. _Even if it means signing our lives away to the State._

"Mustang gave us a similar warning nearly a year ago and I'll tell you what I told him," Ed said with steadfast fire burning in his heart and reflecting in his eyes. "We're not backing down, we won't be intimidated, and we will become State Alchemists. Our reasons are strong, our will stronger yet, and we've nothing to hold us back, as we are all that we have left. This is what we want and failure is not an option, not for us. We are young, but we are old enough."

"Bravo!" General Elias clapped his hand together, beaming. He winked at Ed, who scowled at realizing that the general had played him. "You definitely have me convinced. Ah, Mustang … I always knew when he finally chose to sponsor another alchemist that he'd chose someone special." His beam grew. "Well, two someones special in your case. I repeat again, you are very lucky that he's taken such an interest in you. I feel honored to have been able to host you these last few months. You've brilliant futures ahead of you." He clapped his hand again with energy not accustom to him as of late. "Tonight! Tonight we celebrate, and tomorrow, tomorrow you hand in those completed papers you boys have been hoarding away and spend your last weekend of freedom out and about!" he declared. "Now, upstairs the both of you. I want you back down here at 17:00 sharp, in formal attire."

As both boys knew better than to ask where the general would be taking them for the evening celebrations, Ed and Al got up and bowed respectfully to the general without protest or question, before hurrying upstairs to clean up their day's mess and get cleaned up themselves.

At hearing the boys' eager steps on the stair, General Elias rose from his own seat. "Those boys." Leaning heavily on his cane for support, he crossed the room over to the phone on the table by the bay window overlooking his back garden. He picked up the ear piece and greeted the operator on the other end with the usual pleasantries.

"Elias for Central Command, extension 228, the office of Colonel Roy Mustang," General Elias said, when asked how the operator could direct his call. He waited on the line patiently, as the phone clicked with the switching of the lines, as the operator connected his call to the Military switchboard. He gave his clearance code, once he'd been connected to the Military, and obtained a direct line to Mustang.

"_Mustang,"_ the colonels voice tiredly picked up the other end of the call.

"You sound exhausted, my friend," the general commented cheerfully, his heart feeling sympathy for the ambitious, young man. "Perhaps my call might wake you up."

Mustang's weary chuckle crackled down the line. _"To the contrary, you sound as if you've good news, General. I could use some right about now."_

"Good news, indeed." General Elias grinned. "Your boys are ready. I'll be taking them out tonight to the opening of the Fall Symphony, after a social dinner at the Rierson House. You will attend. Our reservations are for 17:15."

"_Yes, sir,_" Mustang said, sounding as if he weren't exactly enthused, but wasn't entirely put out by the alteration to his evening plans either.

* * *

**AN: **_All right, this is the last prewritten chapter. I hope you all have enjoy it so far. A special thanks to those who have reviewed. I appreciate your words._


	10. Thirty-Five Hours

**Chapter 10: Thirty-Five Hours  
**

Gracia Hughes watched her husband out of the corner of her eye, as she formed the rolls that she was making to go with their dinner of chef salad and her grandmother's stew. Usually Maes would be playing with their daughter, Elicia, at this time, but this evening they were having guests and she had had him put a very fussy Elicia to bed early for the night. Their girl would surely wake them up before the sun rose tomorrow, but it was a small price to pay for peace tonight.

Watching her husband pace about their apartment, nervously wringing his hand as he did so, comforted Gracia that she had made the right choice in having him put their daughter to bed early. Tonight was important to Maes.

"You're going to wear a hole in the carpet." Gracia laughed, as her husband came to a stop and turned to look at her from the living room. She smiled gently at the affection for her that she saw in his eyes. "They'll arrive when they arrive. You know how Roy is, dear."

Maes let out a tense breath and adjusted his glasses. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Gracia nodded to the dining table, an instruction that needed no elaboration.

As Gracia finished placing the rolls in a pre-buttered baking pan, Maes set the table for five and popped the cork on a bottle of wine – an aged Cabernet Sauvignon.

"What do you think the boys will want to drink?" Gracia asked and headed over to the fridge, after having placed the rolls in the oven and washed the flour and dough from between her fingers.

"Roy will probably offer them some of the wine," Maes said bitterly and scowled at the wine bottle that he'd placed on the table only a moment before.

Gracia sighed. "He will do no such thing. You know him to be better than that," she attempted to reassure him. "He knows that they're minors and that they can't be exempt from every age restriction. Maes, it's like you said: the SAC Exam is alchemy and –"

"– we can't attempt to understand what we've no understanding of, alchemists' reasoning when it comes to things related to alchemy in particular," Maes finished for his wife and shook his head. "You haven't seen the way that he acts about these boys, Gracia. I'm not even sure how to describe it. If I didn't know Roy like I do, I'd say he's gone paternal on us. He's protective of them, believes he's the only one – outside of the brothers themselves – who should have any say in their futures, and checks up on them like clockwork, even standing up to Riza to keep his appointments with them."

Gracia pursed her lips. Roy standing up to Riza was news to her and more than just a bit shocking.

"The other day I heard him tell her to go ahead and shoot him, if she was going to shoot, because at least then he'd have a legitimate excuse for being late," Maes continued, looking as if he could still hardly believe it himself. "I'm telling you something isn't right. He's not acting like himself. The Roy I know wouldn't be pulling these kids into the Military. He wouldn't step up and take responsibility of another living being in the way he is doing with these boys. He has enough trouble looking after himself for crying out loud." In a slightly softer voice, he added, "He wouldn't ever place anyone above Riza. He just wouldn't."

"Roy's originally from the East, right?" Gracia asked, a sudden thought hitting her.

Maes nodded. "What are you thinking?"

"Edward is twelve and he's the oldest?" Gracia asked, instead of answering her husband's question. The pieces were forming together and beginning to paint a worrying picture from all that Maes had ever told her about Roy and his interactions with the Elric brothers.

"Edward is twelve. Alphonse is eleven," Maes confirmed, and even as he spoke the boys' ages, his face contorted with horror – understanding of what his wife was insinuating striking him just as it had struck her. "No," he denied outright. "He couldn't be. Roy … a … a …" He shook his head vigorously. "Surely not!"

"We both know how Roy is with women, Maes," Gracia said softly. "Fourteen wouldn't have been too young for him to have –"

"They don't look anything like him," Maes protested, before grimacing. "Okay, so maybe a little, but they don't have his coloring."

"So they got their coloring from their mother." Gracia did her best not to appear as concerned by the prospect of Roy being a father as her husband. Roy Mustang, a father. It just didn't set right in the mind. She suddenly felt an large dose of pity for Edward and Alphonse. Roy wasn't a cruel man, but he was far from being open with his affections. And if what she and her husband knew of Roy's life was correct, he'd not been at all present in their lives until a year ago. _Now he's bring them into the Military and setting himself up to be their commanding officer. Oh, Roy, what are you think? There are better ways of keeping them close._

"Their mother was Trisha Elric and she ..." Maes trailed off, seemingly speaking to himself. "What am I even talking about?" he demanded furiously of the empty air before him. "He as good as wrote their history! They're probably not even from Resemboool! There last name probably isn't even Elric! That's right it's Mustang!"

As her husband returned to his pacing, all the while continuing his rant to himself, Gracia glanced down the hall back towards Elicia's room. She hoped that Maes would remember to keep his voice down, as getting Elicia to go to sleep a second time was always more difficult than getting her to go to bed initially. _Well, tonight shall be interesting._

–

Al walked hurriedly behind his brother and Colonel Mustang, doing his best not to laugh and to keep up with Ed's charging pace.

"Shut up, Al," Ed said between clenched teeth, not even turning back to look at his brother, as they made their way up to the second floor of Lieutenant Colonel Hughes's building.

Al grinned, his amusement clawing at his throat and very close to escaping. The look on his brother's face … it had been priceless. He was going to remember it forever.

"Ah, lighten up, Ed," Mustang teased with a shit-eating grin on his face and doing absolutely nothing to hide his own amusement at Ed's expense. "At least she didn't mistake you for being a _little _girl_._"

"YOU WANNA GO, YOU BASTARD?" Ed screeched and spun around to face Mustang, disregarding that stairs were far from the best place for a fight. "I'LL SHOW YOU WHO CRIES LIKE A MICRO-BEAN SIZED GIRL WHEN MY AUTOMAIL FIST MEETS YOUR UGLY FACE!"

"You don't need to prove your femininity to me, Ed," Mustang replied smoothly, while side-stepping around a very red faced Edward Elric. "I already know you hit like a girl. I don't need you crying about it. And you really shouldn't call yourself a micro-bean. It's misleading. A nano-bean, now that is far more accurate."

"BASTARD!"

Al caught his brother's jacket with his automail left hand and braced his right leg against the edge of the next stair up, effectively halting Ed's attack and nearly being jerk off balance for his effort. He rolled his eyes. _Brother is so predictable._

"Let go, Al," Ed demanded, attempting to shake off Al's grip.

"You can't hit him, brother," Al said. "He's going to be our commanding officer."

"But he isn't yet!" Ed clapped his hands. Alchemy flashed across his palms and lit the stairs with a blue hue.

Mustang barked a laugh and withdrew his gloved hand from his pocket. "Bring it on, punk."

"Colonel! ED!" Al yelled, his eyes going wide as Ed lunged to slam his palms to the stairs and Mustang poised his fingers to snap. In the ensuing chaos, a fire ball erupted over Ed and Al's heads, only just missing them, at the same time that the stairs smoothed out into a slick slide and all three alchemist were sent skidding back down to the first floor. Ed and Al ended up on their asses with Mustang landing on top on them, knocking all three of them over and laying them out flat on the stone tile floor of the apartment building's entrance hall.

It only took a second for the shock to wear off and uncontrollable laughter to erupt from the two blond boys and dark haired man.

–

The cocking of a gun earned Mustang's attention almost immediately. His mirth died on his lips, as he looked up to find his best friend, Maes Hughes, looking down at him from over the second floor banister with a strange glint in his eyes and his pistol in hand, though the gun was thankfully not pointed at him or the boys, but directly up in the air.

"My precious Elicia is sleeping, you jackals." Hughes narrowed his eyes dangerously at the three alchemists. He sniffed the air and scanned his gaze over the stairs turned slide pointedly. He raised an eyebrow at Mustang.

Mustang smirked. "Ed, clean up your mess."

"You clean it up, bastard," Ed grumbled, while shoving at Mustang's back, as the man was still partially on top of him. "You started it."

"So I did," Mustang agreed, after taking a moment to consider if Ed was actually right this time. He pushed himself up and turned to offer each Elric a hand. He received two automail grips on his flesh and he pulled the two upright. "Still," he continued, looking at a now standing, though somewhat rumpled Ed, "you're the one who transmuted the stairs."

"Yeah, yeah." Ed waved unconcernedly and approached the slide that he'd created. He clapped his hands and slammed them down against the smooth wood surface. Alchemy crackled in the air and the stairs returned to their previous state in a matter of seconds. "Happy?" he asked, tilting his head back and around to look at Mustang – a cocky grin plastered on his face.

"Thrilled," Mustang said dryly.

"Eh, could have been better, brother," Al commented and pretended to exam his brother's work. "Like right here," he pointed to a place on the second to last rung that looked absolutely no different to any other part of the stairs and clearly had nothing wrong with it. He clucked his tongue with disapproval. "I expect better from you, brother," he said with mock disappointment.

Ed slapped him up side the head with his flesh hand. "I'll let you do it next time," he threaten.

Al stuck his tongue out at him.

"Come on, I'm sure Gracia is wondering what the commotion was all about," Mustang said, ushering the brothers back onto the stairs. He grinned at his best friend, attempting to lighten the bespectacled man's mood, as they passed Hughes to enter the man's apartment. A hand catching his arm prevented him from entering the apartment and greeting Gracia with the boys. "Hughes."

"Were you ever going to tell me?" Hughes demanded, searching his friend's face with hurt visible on his own.

"Tell you what?" Mustang asked, confused.

Hughes's face closed off. "You damn well know what. And let me tell you this, Roy, bring those boys into the Military won't make up for shit and is no way of doing right by them," he said in a low, furious whisper. "It's moments like the one you just had with them that you should be giving them."

"You really want to do this tonight?" Mustang demanded, hardly believing Hughes was already at his throat and they hadn't even had dinner yet. Hell, he hadn't even set foot inside the man's apartment.

"Monday is coming down to being just _hours_ away," Hughes stressed. "They'll be making the biggest mistake of their lives. You know it. It doesn't matter, Roy, if they think they know what they want and what exactly it is that they're signing up for. They can't comprehend what they're asking for in becoming State Alchemists, not fully. You can tell them 'no'. You _can_ call this off. That's your right, Roy. Allowing them to do this won't undo the first decade of their lives."

Mustang shifted uneasily, as he replayed his friends initial question and the man's following words in his mind. _He couldn't have learned of their past,_ he tried to assure himself. There were all of six people who knew of the brother's attempt at human transmutation and all of them would protect the truth to their dying breath. "I haven't a clue what your talking about, Hughes."

"I'm sure you don't," Hughes said with heavy sarcasm and regarded Mustang with a skeptical look. "Let me ask you this, what are you going to feel when you have one, if not both of those boys' blood on your hands? Do you think you'll still believe that allowing them to become State Alchemists was worth it?"

"If they can make even the slightest difference and live with pride in their work," Mustang said without falter and absolute conviction, "then there is nothing that wouldn't be worth it."

Hughes stepped around his friend and shut the door to his apartment, giving his wife a meaningful look across their living room in the process. Once the door clicked shut and he and Mustang were alone in the hall, he round on his friend with angry eyes.

Mustang narrowed his eyes at Hughes in return. _Just how many times are we going to have this argument?_ He was completely thrown off guard by Hughes grabbing him with two fist at his collar and spinning him around and shoving him back against the hallway wall. A startled breath left his lungs with the impact. "What the fuck do you –"

"I realize you have issues, Roy," Hughes said bluntly with a harsh, unforgiving edge. His face was mere inches from Mustang's own, as he seemed to tower over the slightly short man. "You were orphaned young and grew up without any true understanding of family, Berthold Hawkeye did a number on you when you were a teenager, Ishval nearly destroyed you right out of the academy, and you've kept your nose to the grindstone, chasing your ambitions ever since. I understand, Roy. I really do. It's easier to remain focused on a single goal and shut out everything else. I've allow you to carry on as you have, because I thought you'd come out of it in your own time. But you've got to pull yourself together. Stop thinking like a god damn alchemist for once and think about those boys and what is truly best for them. If you really want to be their father and make up for the years you've missed, don't let them go through with the Exam on Monday. I'm telling you, it is the biggest mistake any of you will ever make."

Mustang went from absolutely livid to stunned into silence. His mouth opened with protest, yet no sound came out. Just as his jaw and vocal cords attempted to work to no effect, his brain shuttered and froze with his every attempt to wrap his mind around Hughes's words. _Father … their father … he thinks … no, no, no … Me? Ed and Al's father? … Is he insane?_

"I'm not," Mustang managed to get out finally.

"You're not going to let them take the Exam on Monday. Excellent," Hughes said, not letting up on his friend in the least. "I knew you'd make the –"

"No, you idiot!" Mustang gave Hughes a hard shove, causing the taller man to stumble back away from him. "I'm not their … father," he said somewhat awkwardly, before yelling with all the frustration and anger that he felt at the moment, "Just where in the hell did you get that conclusion from?"

Hughes studied his once more livid friend closely. "You're really not their father?"

"No!" Roy bellowed, red faced and looking very much like he desired to incinerate the man before him.

"Well, you certainly act like you are," Hughes said without thinking. The flames barely missed him, as his eyes bugged out of his head and he was forced to dive to his right.

–

Ed shifted uneasily in his seat and glanced over at his brother. Mustang and Hughes's disagreement out in the hall had woken Elicia, and Gracia had gone to calm the baby down, leaving him and Al alone at the dining table.

Al winced, an action mirrored by Ed, at hearing the distinct snap of the colonel's flames igniting beyond the closed door of the apartment. "I wonder what Hughes said to make him so mad."

"I'm not going to ask," Ed said serious, his self-preservation much too high to deliberately incite the colonel's wrath. He and Mustang wound each other up all the time and that was fine, but to have Mustang actually pissed at him wasn't something that he thought wise, though he understood it to be an inevitability. He and Al would be working under the colonel soon and they were bound to mess up sooner rather than later. Mustang chewing them out and threatening to set them alight was all part of the job description, or so 2nd Lieutenant Havoc had said.

Ed and Al listened intently, as the muffled yelling between the two men continued for perhaps a minute more. At last, the hall went quite. The brothers exchanged nervous looks, before affixing their gazes expectantly on the door. Whatever the disagreement had been about, the two officers had settled it for the time being.

"Not a word," they heard Mustang growl at Hughes, as the men entered the apartment looking worse for wear.

Hughes grinned. "My lips are sealed."

Mustang shot him a nasty look, one that slipped right off his face as his eyes came to rest on the brothers.

"So, I hear you went to the Fall Symphony last night," Hughes said with an easy air, as he claimed his seat at the head of the table and Mustang took the seat across from Ed and Al.

"We did," Al confirmed.

"What'd you think?" Hughes asked, while pouring him and Mustang each a glass of wine. Gracia had already served the brothers a white grape juice.

"It was good," Ed said, before adding with excitement, "really good actually. The way the music flowed – all the individual notes coming together as a series of master pieces and each master piece moving effortlessly into the next to become the entirety of the symphony – was remarkable and very powerful. If only we alchemist could figure out a way to sustain our transmutations over time like that. The possibilities would be endless! Perhaps the secret lies in the individual notes feeding into each other and informing the next series of notes, which in turn inform the next master piece to be played. If we could work single purpose transmutations to –"

Mustang laughed at the bewildered frown that appeared on Hughes's face.

"Right," Ed said, his face heating the slightest bit at realizing he'd been rambling. "It was good."

Al chuckled as well.

"Are you boys ready to eat?" Gracia interrupted before anything more could be said.

–

The evening passed pleasantly. Any time that the State Alchemists Certification Exam was brought up, Mustang or Hughes would change the subject, both men sharing looks that told of an unfinished conversation regarding the matter. As the evening wore on and desert was enjoyed, Ed and Al took a great liking to Maes and Gracia Hughes, finding the two parents to be genuine, loving people, who both cared a lot for not only each other and their small family but about Colonel Mustang as well.

"Just call me Uncle Maes," Hughes said, after Al had called him Lieutenant Colonel for the twentieth time that night.

Mustang sputtered and very nearly choked on his wine, all the while glaring accusingly at Hughes.

"Are you all right, Roy?" Gracia asked with concern.

"Ex-excuse me." Mustang stood from the table.

Ed narrowed his eyes after the man with suspicion, as the colonel retreated towards the bathroom.

"He'll be fine," Hughes said positively and shared a knowing look with his wife. "He just has a few things on his mind tonight is all."

"I hope he's okay," Al said softly, glancing at the closed bathroom door. "The last year or so has been pretty rough on him …" he spoke so quietly that the Hughes had to strain their ears to hear what he said and only Ed was able to hear him clearly, as he was sitting right next to Al.

Ed heard the 'and its our fault' in his brother's voice all too clearly. "The colonel made his choice the same as we did, Al," he reminded his brother in a low whisper that matched the volume Al had used. "He won't let us down and we won't let him down, not now. Just one more week and we're home free."

"Hmm," Al hummed his agreement and met Ed's gaze with understanding. They were in it together, all taking the same risk and hoping for the same reward. Victory was so close that each of them could very nearly taste it.

When Mustang rejoined the table, Ed grinned mischievously. "Didn't know you were such a lush, Colonel. What's the matter, can't handle your wine?"

"Edward," Gracia began chidingly, but fell quiet at the smirk that appeared on Mustang's face.

"Like you could do better, Ed." Mustang's smirk deepened. "With your stature, a sip would be all it would take to do you in."

"Who are you calling a peewee mini-shrimp who couldn't handle even a drop of alcohol?" Ed hissed, clearly remembering that Elicia was sleeping.

"Brother, he didn't say all of that!" Al protested.

"You, Ed. You," Mustang said, his smirk pulling into a full blown smile.

Ed looked Mustang up and down contemplatively, before nodding with satisfaction. "I thought so, bastard."

"Colonel Bastard." Mustang gave Ed a sharp look.

Ed and Al laughed.

"Sure thing, Colonel Bastard," Ed agreed easily.

It was a little over a half-hour later that Ed, Al, and Mustang gave their farewells to the Hughes and headed out for the night. Mustang dropped the boys off at General Elias's house fifteen minutes later, before heading home himself. As each person to attend dinner that night laid their heads down to go to sleep, they shared a single thought. _Thirty-five __hours._

Ed and Al had thirty-five hours before getting their first shot at making their dream of becoming State Alchemists a reality. Mustang only had thirty-five hours left to put the brakes on an operation that had been over fifteen months in the making, if he were to put the brakes on it at all. Maes Hughes had thirty-five hours left to convince his friend to do the right thing. Gracia Hughes simply shed a silent tear with her husband's arms wrapped around her, because she knew that in thirty-five hours the boys she had met tonight would never be the same again.

Dogs of the Military, it was such a cruel thing for two wonderful, young men to be known as.


	11. Westside Chaos

**Chapter 11: Westside Chaos**

Mustang stared blankly up at the expanse of floorboards and joists above him and frowned. Last night, the wine he had drunk at Hughes's house had allowed him to slip into a fitful sleep almost the second that as his head had hit his pillow, but this morning, now awake with the rising sun streaming into his room through the light cotton curtains covering his windows, he was plagued by building doubt and a large dose of apprehension.

_You idiot,_ Mustang scolded himself for what felt like the dozenth time that morning. He glanced to his right to the alarm-clock that rested on his bedside table. 06:57. _Twenty-six hours._

Mustang expelled a tension filled breath and returned to staring at the ceiling. He was such a fool. _Damn you, Hughes. Why couldn't you have said something sooner? Why'd you wait until it was too late? No amount of damage control can fix this now._ He scrubbed his hands over his face and let out a frustrated growl. _Were you hoping this would be the result of my stupidity all along? You knew I was miscalculating this from the beginning. You warned me that I was getting in over my head time and time again. I didn't listen. I just assumed that you meant you didn't think me capable of handling the Top Brass … and you never clarified. _

It was with great effort that Mustang forced himself to push his sheets aside and actually make an attempt to get out of bed. He was getting nowhere with the never ending circle that had become his thoughts. _Too late,_ his mind whispered to him. _Far too late. Only one thing to do now. _He fisted his hands against his knees and pushed himself to stand.

"No, I gave them my word," Mustang refuted, refusing to give into the urge to see the boys safe and as far away from the Military as they could possibly get. He couldn't go back on his word, not now. They would never forgive him, and he'd worked far too hard to gain Edward Elric's trust over the last three months, had given far too much of himself to the boys, had done far too much to secure all of their futures to break the deal that had been struck between them all those months ago. _I'm not their father. It's not my job to protect them from the harsh realities of life. I gave them a choice, provided them with all the information that they requested, and they chose. They understand what will be asked of them with far more clarity than most recruits. I've made sure of it. No, what is done is already done. The way we move forward remains perfectly clear. _"I am to be their commanding officer. That is all."

Mustang glanced to his alarm-clock once more. 07:00. _It's going to be a long twenty-six hour,_ he thought with a weary sigh. _Coffee_ – he needed coffee – _coffee and a hot breakfast_.

–

Ed and Al waved enthusiastically to General Elias, as they descended the front steps of the elderly man's townhouse. The day looked like it was going to be a good one. The sun was rising over the skyline of Central City without a single cloud marring the rich blue expanse of the early autumn sky, the morning fog having not been able to stick around long under the force of the September sun's warm, golden rays.

Ed grinned, as he set his sights on Westside. He and Al hadn't done much exploring across the river. Today that would change. His pace increased ever so slightly with his anticipation. With it being a Sunday, the hour was still early enough that not many people were out, meaning that he and Al would basically have the streets to themselves for the next hour or so.

"Back before dusk, lads," the general called after the retreating backs of the boys.

"We'll do our best, sir," Al yelled back over his shoulder, before hurrying to catch up with his brother. His grin matched Ed's grin, as he fell into step with him several paces up the walk.

"Up for an adventure, Al?" Ed asked, rubbing his hands together with excitement.

"You know it." Al punched Ed's flesh shoulder with his flesh hand and smirked, before dashing ahead of Ed. "Last one to cross the bridge has to drink an entire bottle of milk!"

"YOU DARE SPEAK BLASTPHAMY TO YOUR OLDER BROTHER, ALPHONSE ELRIC!" Ed yelled, his eyes going wide in horror.

Al laughed and put on a fraction of speed.

"Oh no you don't!" Ed ran after Al with a dozen different ways of ensure his victory flashing through his mind – most of which would be considered cheating by his younger brother, but he didn't care with what was at stake. "You will lose to you're older brother and drink your words!"

–

"Mustang," Mustang answered the phone that rested on the sideboard beneath the smallest window in his kitchen over looking the street on its third ring.

"_Sir, I'm sorry to disturb you so early and especially on the weekend, but you're needed at the office._"

Mustang scowled at the cold, black receiver pressed to his ear, not recognizing the voice on the other end of the line. "On who's orders?"

"_Major General Halcrow's, sir._"

"And who exactly am I speaking with?" Mustang demanded, irritation creeping into his voice despite his attempt to remain civil. Dealing with Halcrow was at the very top of the list of thing that he did _not _want to do today.

"_Lieutenant Del–"_

Whatever the lieutenant's name was, Mustang didn't catch it, as the line chose that moment to fade out.

"– _is an urgent matter. You need to come in now, sir,_" the lieutenant finished speaking.

"I'll be there in fifteen." Mustang sighed with resignation. He slammed the receiver back into its brass cradle, glaring at the offending object for all he was worth. The smell of scorched coffee reaching his nose a second later had him swearing up a storm. He crossed back over to his stove in three long strides, nearly slipping on the egg that he'd dropped on the tile when the phone had sounded its shrill ring. Today was not going to be a good day, not even remotely.

After cleaning up his egg mess and dumping his scorched coffee down the sink and setting the blackened pot to soak, Mustang trekked back to his bedroom in search of a clean uniform. His mood officially sour. _This had better be good, Halcrow._

Less than five minutes later, the Flame Alchemist was dashing out of his apartment building's main doors and making a beeline for the car waiting for him.

From the time that Mustang heard the BANG! to the moment that he registered the flare of acute agony spreading across his chest, he was already on the ground, his body sprawled out on the stone steps leading up to his building and metallic red pooling around him. He ears rung and his eyes were hazy with the onslaught of the adrenaline shooting through him. The last thing to fill his vision before he succumbed to the nothingness encroaching upon his daze, pain filled mind was his own, gloved hands covered in blood.

–

"I win!" Ed declared, clutching the stitch in his side and panting almost too heavily for Al to make out his triumphant exclamation, especially considering that Al was having difficulty catching his own breath and was panting just as heavy, doubled over a few paces short of his brother. The bridge to Westside had been deceptively far.

"L-let's rest a minute," Al wheezed and stumbled over to crumple down on one of the chairs outside of Kitra's Bakery, a shop that was a mere few steps off of the bridge.

Ed grunted and slumped into the seat opposite Al, letting his head fall forward onto the glassed topped table between them.

The brothers sat in amicable silence, as they regained control of their breathing and appreciated the crisp morning air wafting against their heated flesh.

BANG!

Ed and Al both started. The sound wasn't close, but it was close enough to be heard and to cause alarm.

"What was that?" Ed jerked up and twisted in his chair to look down the street, his eyes zeroing in on the direction the noise had come from.

"A car back firing," Al said hopefully.

"I don't think so, Al." Ed's eyes narrowed and he stood up, his back straightening in a way that said he meant business and their fun was at its end. "Come on. Let's check it out."

Al hesitated for but a moment before nodding his ascent and standing as well.

The brother's weren't the only ones to be drawn by the shot. As the two boys hurried up the street at a jog, more and more people began to pour out onto the sidewalk looking for the source of the disturbance, while spreading speculation amongst their neighbors.

"That way!" Ed yelled, as a two MP cars and an ambulance cut across the intersection ahead of them and sped down a side street – lights flashing and sirens blaring.

"This way, brother," Al said and pulled Ed towards the alley to their left instead. "It will be quicker."

Ed agreed. With all the people flooding the streets, jostling a path was becoming increasingly difficult.

"Sorry. Excuse us," Al said, while none-too-rudely shoving his way into the alley with Ed following a very close step behind him.

They broke into a run once they were free and clear of the crowd, their booted steps echoing in the vacant, narrow space. They had nearly made it halfway up the still heavily shaded corridor when a dark figure passing across the bright sky above them. Ed skidded to a stop. Al halted a pace behind him, his face turned upwards as well.

"Did you see that?" Ed pointed from the edge of the roof to their right to the brick precipice to their left.

"Hmm," Al confirmed. "And that was no bird, brother."

"Are you thinking what I'm think?" Ed asked, looking to Al.

A gun shot and now someone was fleeing away from the disturbance across the roof tops.

Al clapped his hands together, lighting the alley with alchemy's blue hue. "I am," he said with determination in his eyes.

"Then let's do this," Ed said, clapping his hands together as well and slamming his palms to the cool, dewy pavement beneath his and his brother's feet in perfect time with Al.

The brother's rose from the earth on pillars of stone, their alchemy catapulting them up and out of the alley. At the opportune moment, the boys launched themselves onto the roof that they had seen the dark figure jump to and released their alchemy. The pillars that they had created crumbled back to the pavement below.

"There!" Ed cried, seeing the dark figure leaping from the next building. "He's headed for the river."

Neither boy hesitated as they gave chase, both flying across the gap between the building that they had landed on and the one the dark figure had just launched himself from with speed and agility that was a testimony to their training.

–

"The Hughes residence."

The lieutenant colonel heard his wife answer the phone. His daughter grabbing his finger and sucking it into her mouth, however, reclaimed his attention in a matter of seconds and he paid no further mind to his wife's conversation, as he resumed his assigned task of feeding his adorable, little princess her breakfast.

"Open up," the father said gently, smiling lovingly at his daughter. "That's it. Chugga … chugga … choo … choo," he mimicked the sounds of a train as he brought a spoon full of applesauce to her awaiting mouth. At the last moment, she giggled, causing the applesauce to go everywhere but where it was supposed to. The father simply looked upon his now messy little girl with adoration and pride.

Upon dipping the spoon back into the applesauce, Maes Hughes felt his wife's hand come to rest on his shoulder.

"Maes, dear."

The quaver in his wife's voice broke Hughes out of his happy world of Elicia filled bliss like a bucket of ice water dumped over his head. Forgetting the applesauce, he turned in his chair and looked up at his wife. "What's wrong?" he asked urgently, looking to her with expectation and a touch of apprehension. He knew that tone and it never meant anything good.

Gracia knelt down and took her husband's hands into hers. "Th-that was Breda just now." She swallowed hard and Hughes could tell that she was putting all the strength that he so loved about her into holding back the tears that were threatening to spill from her eyes.

_Roy. _Fear struck Hughes at his very core, as he watched his wife try and try again to form the words, knowing what she was going to say. _It's_ _Roy._ "Is he going … will he be … ?" He could bring himself to ask or even considered whether his friend was alive or not. Roy just had to be, had to be alive even if he had been hurt badly somehow. He couldn't accept that he wasn't.

Gracia's hands tightened on her husband's hands, as if her meager hold would be enough to keep him grounded, to prevent him from bolting out their apartment door once she relayed what Breda had told her. "It's t-too soon to know. It was … it just happened. Breda said something a-about the ELF."

As his wife uttered the accursed name, it took everything Hughes had not to break contact with her and charge out of their apartment with the intent of hunting down every last bastard associated with the Eastern Liberation Front and bring them to his own personal brand of justice. He had told Roy not to take their threat lightly, had warned him that the ELF was far more dangerous than what Roy believed them to be. _We should have shut them down back with Petro's capture._

"Did Breda say what hospital?" Hughes asked, instead forcing his mind to remain focused on Roy and away from the dark thoughts swirling in his mind and forming into workable operations.

"Westside General, at least until they can get him stabilized," Gracia said, a single tear escaping the corner of her eye and trickling down her cheek. "But, Maes, he's bad … really bad. You need to prepare yourse–"

"Don't," Hughes forced out around the tightness in his throat, pinning his wife with a pleading look. He couldn't consider it. He just couldn't. _A world without … No! No – never! Not while I'm still here. You made me a promise, Roy, and I made you one in return. You can't … not yet._

"Okay," Gracia said softly and reached up to wipe away the tears cutting a path down her husbands face.

"Ooo … Ooo ..." Elicia cooed at her parents and beat her little fists on the surface of her highchair, demanding the rest of her breakfast and completely oblivious to the danger her Uncle Roy was in.

Hughes shut his eyes and put every bit of strength that he had towards reeling in his emotions. "I've to go," he said and reopened his eyes. His wife smiled sadly at him with understanding.

–

The explosion rocked seven city blocks.

Ed didn't give a shit how far the explosion was felt or what sort of attention it attracted. The bastard was a fucking alchemist!

Ed was forced to launch himself to his left with a pain filled grunt. He press his back flat against a large chunk of cement that had rebar sticking out of it every which way, only just avoiding the hiss of hot whip like air particles that would have easily cut through him if he had remained sprawl out in the debris as he had been. "Al!" he yelled, his vision cloud and his breath choked by the dust swirling around him.

"Fine, brother," Al's blessed voice shouted back to him from somewhere off to his right.

Fleeing footsteps sounding through the knock and fall of still shifting rumble, ones that were much too heavy to belong to Al, had Ed leaping over a pile of plaster and wood framing in pursuit of their opponent. _Like hell I'm letting the bastard get away now._ Quieter footsteps from his right and the appearance of Al at his side freed him from the lingering worry he felt for his brother. Al was just fine, a little bruised and had a small gash on his forehead, but no worse than his own state. It would take more than bring down a building beneath them to do them in. Teacher had trained them well.

"Bastard's an alchemist!" Ed growled, as they skidded around a portion of wall that had somehow remained standing.

Surprise flashed across Al's face, his feet flying over the unstable debris with only the slightest difficulty and easily keeping pace with his brother. "That wasn't you?" he asked, referring to the explosion that had just ripped the building right out from under them.

–

Hughes swore and threw his arm out in front of him to brace himself against the seat in front of him, as his car came to a screeching stop. He had felt the explosion moments ago and had known that they were traveling towards it, as the dust cloud rising into the sky was easy to spot, but the sudden stop upon rounding the corner of Aberdeen St. to take Westside Bridge wasn't expected. He hadn't thought the explosion had been _that_ close.

Looking out the windshield and towards the bridge, Hughes realized that they hadn't stopped for the explosion at all. Somehow, the sight of two young men – their blond hair flying as furiously through the air as the boys themselves – locked in pursuit of a man dressed entirely in black, all three making their way down the center of Westside Bridge, didn't surprise him in the least. He hurried out of the car and onto the pavement, barking orders at his sergeant to ready his weapon and that the man in black was their target. He had no sooner gave the order to protect the Elric brothers at all cost when a second explosion rocked the area and he was thrown backwards and landed half skidding, half rolling across the pavement. He pressed himself flat to the ground and covered his head with his hands and arms the best he could, as the vehicle he'd been in a short minute ago flew over him, missing him by mere inches and causing his heart to skip several beats.

The military car burst into flames upon impacting the pavement on the other side of the lieutenant colonel.

Hughes groaned, feeling his entire body aching with the abuse it had just suffered. Survival drove him to push himself up on to his hands and knees and crawl with speed he was hardly capable of at the moment towards the shelter of a paper box. He gritted his teeth against the particularly sharp pain shooting up his wrist that foretold of a least one broken bone for sure.

"Brosh!" Hughes bellowed.

"Sir!" the lieutenant colonel only just made out through the ringing in his ears, before the car's gas tank caught alight. The resulting explosion sent flames out and upwards with shrapnel from the car's decimated frame flying away from the epicenter in a radial pattern. Hughes prayed that Sergeant Brosh had found cover, as he tucked his head against his knees and pressed back against the paper box in an attempt to protect himself the best he could, his world shaking and his body assaulted with the percussions of a blast for the third time in under five minutes.

–

Al clapped his hands and dove for the ground. A wall of stone rose from the pavement. He had barely thrown himself against it and braced for impact when he felt his wall shutter under the strain of the unknown alchemist's assault. He looked to his brother on the other side of the narrow bridge, Ed just feet to his left with his own wall protecting his back from the wave of hot explosive air that would have stripped the skin right off of their bodies had they been exposed to it.

"This isn't working," Al said only loud enough for Ed to hear him.

"I know." Ed gritted his teeth. "He's quick, much too quick to be drawing a circle every time. I think I saw something on his gloves. If we could just get close en–"

BOOM!

The sound of crunching metal and screams of alarm had Al's fists clenching. _This is getting dangerous for everybody. He doesn't care who he hurts._

BOOOOM!

A second explosion flowed the first with barely five breaths in between. It shook the ground beneath their feet with a force much greater than the first.

Al winced. Who ever they were up against was strong, very strong. He met his brother's troubled, yet determined gaze and knew right then that they were going to take down this guy no matter what it took. He nodded, giving his silent assent. He could hear the MP's closing in on their location. Whatever they did, they were going to have to be quick about it, or more people were about to get hurt.

Ed signaled for Al to cover him, a plan clear in his mind. With caution, Al pocked his head around his wall, trusting his brother to know what he was doing. Their opponent was almost to the opposite end of the bridge, making for a final escape.

"Not today," Al said fiercely and slammed his hands to the pavement. As he did so, Ed rushed past him with all the speed that he possessed. Al forced his mind to concentrate on the alchemical energy and to not worry about the crazy plan his brother was about to execute. The pavement rippled, as the blue energy of his alchemy licked along its surface. In the passing of a single second, his alchemy had outstripped their fleeing opponent. In the next, the remain length of bridge destabilized and collapsed into the rushing waters below, leaving the other alchemist with nowhere to run.

Al felt a distinct sense of satisfaction at hearing the yell of surprise and frustration rip from the alchemist's throat. Not wasting any time, he darted forward, intent on closing the distance between him and the alchemist and catching up to Ed.

As the alchemist turned back from the still crumbling ledge of the bridge, Al knew what he was going to do. He dropped and slammed his hand to the pavement without sparing a thought towards the alchemist's attack, solely focusing on his and his brother's defense. A wall rose up to protect not only him, but Ed as well.

Ed never slowed, even as the wall protecting them cracked and nearly crumbled with the force of the attack. It was then that Al knew what his brother was planning. He sucked in a sharp breath and held it, hoping Ed was going to be quick enough. He counted his brother's steps, and at the precise moment that wouldn't be too soon, yet not too late, he reversed his transmutation.

Ed's battle cry was fierce, as he leaped from the top of the receding wall and launched himself at the alchemist, who raised his right hand in retaliation.

Al felt his heart stutter in his chest, his eyes wide and fearful and glued on the closing distance between his brother and the alchemist. It was going to be close, very close.

CRACK! Automail met flesh and bone.

Al released a jagged breath, never remembering feeling so relieved in his life. Seeing his brother transmute his automail arm into a blade, as the alchemist stumble back dumbly with blood streaming from his now thoroughly crushed nose and purple bruises already forming around his surprised, horrified eyes, prompted Al to join the fight. He transmuted his own automail arm into a blade, as he rushed forward.

As he watched Ed strike out at the alchemist and the alchemist's again attempt to retaliate with alchemy, Al knew it was going to be a short fight. As long as neither he nor Ed gave the man time to finish his transmutation, they had him.

The following fight was as swift as Al had predicted with Al attacking the moment Ed finished his own attack and Ed attacking the second Al let up in his attack. Their final blow was Ed kicking the man in the chest and sending him stumbling in Al's direction. Al ushered the alchemist into unconsciousness with a well timed round house kick to the temple. A follow up punch from Ed with his automail fist made sure that the man was down and out of the fight.

It wasn't until it was all over that either boy realized the audience they had garnered. MP's, enlisted men, officers of various ranks, and curious civilians had all gathered at the ends of the bridge and along the river with more people flooding the area by the second.


End file.
